Collision
by GuardianSaint
Summary: James and Lilly Potter had a serect that they took to their graves, literally. Before Voldermort came the Potters was able to send their daughter to James' brother Gabe. Unfortunately there wasn't time to send off their son. Years later during Harry Potter and his friends' third year Harry meets a interesting girl with the same lighting mark on her head. Twin-cest.
1. Chapter 1

**I came up with this idea after going through some fem Harry Potter stories on Archive of Our Own. Here's the first chapter of Collision. Enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I wished I did. J.K. Rowling does. I don't own Danny and Breana, my friend LabRatsWhore.**

 _Prologue: The Girl Who Lived_

In the small, two story cottage in Godric Hallow a man with black hair that stopped at his neck paced the living room of his family's home. Soft crying came from upstairs as a man with dark brown hair sat in a lounge chair.

"This is suicide, James. What would ma and pa say?"

James Potter sighed heavily before moving his green eyes up to his pacing brother. "I don't really care Gabe. I have to do this. Voldermort will not get Harry but that doesn't mean that Hera has to stay and witness whatever gruesome thing Voldermort has planned."

Gabe stopped pacing and looked at his brother with tears in his hazel eyes. "What's going to happen to Harry? Voldermort is going to kill him and the both of you."

James stood and pulled his brother into a tight embrace. "At least one Potter would live and the prophecy will happen."

The brothers pulled away just as the front door blasted open and a cloaked figure walked in the cottage. Gabe knew he had to get upstairs and hurried up the twelve steps before rushing in the nursery as he heard his brother's pained scream.

Gabe leaned against the closed door and took a deep breath before looking at his sister in law. "He's here."

Lilly who was cradling a creamy skinned bundle in soft and light green blankets, nodded. This was it, the moment they dreaded. She knew Peter wasn't trust worthy. With tears falling from her blue eyes she gave Gabe her sleeping daughter. "Tell her I love her."

Gabe nodded with tears falling from his own eyes. In a quick movement he grabbed a small white and grey maincoon kitten before disappearing in a cloud of grey smoke. When the soft cleared he was in Sirius Black's home with a now crying baby in his arms. Gabe dropped the kitten before tending to his niece, who was crying bloody murder. When he pushed back some of her raven black hair he was astonished to see a scar on her forehead in the almost exact shape of a lighting bolt.

 _ **On the Other side of the World**_

A man with brown hair and brown eyes smiled lovingly at the two one year old babies in the crib in the mint green nursery. He turned and headed for the door, before leaving he turned on the nightlight. Not fifthteen minutes later the window two the nursery opened and two scrawny men in leather climbed through. One with short brown hair and tan skin went to the door and locked it as the second one with curly shoulder length blondish-brunette hair picked up the toddlers and placed them in baskets. The blondish-brunetteleaned over the opened windowsill and dropped the baskets where a brutely man with auburn hair wearing tore jeans, biker boots and a leather vest, caught them. Ungrateful catch caused the toddlers to cry.

"Levi!"

The large auburn hair man winched before turning around as a man dressed in a pressed black, pin stripe suit exited a limo. "Boss Henry."

The man pushed back his already slick black hair. "I hope you remember that those are precious cargo. They will make me very rich."

Levi nodded as the two men in the house slid down the rope connected to the house. "Yes, sir."

Henry narrowed his grey eyes. "Good. Now get them in the car!"

Levi quickly rushed to the limo and placed the baskets in the limo. Before stepping out of the way as Henry entered the car and slammed the door shut. As the limo drove off Levi and the two men in leather rode behind on three motorcycles into the quiet night.


	2. Chapter 2

**First off, thank you for the reviews, faves and follows. I really appreciate them. Here's the first chapter, enjoy.**

 _Nine Years Later_

Loud blood curling screams bounced off the walls of the dimly lit halls. A scrawny brunette ten year old boy swarmed and cried as the large brute he unfortunately came to know as Levi held him back with a sick grin that he also was unfortunately used to. Ever since he could remember this has been home. They never knew their parents, because sadly they were killed. At least that's what _him_ told them and when he meant them he meant himself and his fifthteen minute younger twin sister, Breana. Who was currently the owner of the unbarable screams.

"Stop swarming you little twit!" Levi snarled harshly as he gripped the boy on his upper arm hard. Leaving yet another bruise. "The Boss will come for you soon enough."

The boy moaned before trying again to get lose. Even though he tried for the past six years since this torture started and never got lose. Just when Levi went to leave another bruise the metal door slammed opened and a pair of pale hands threw a small ten year old girl with long, tangled brown hair.

"Danny!" the girl cried out as she fell on the boy on the floor.

Danny who originally went by Daniel held the girl back and couldn't fight the rage that was bubbling up. Breana had brusies on her neck and where her dirty tank top had rips in the side showed fresh and old scars. Some would wonder why they were there in the first place, if someone asked them they couldn't give a straight answer. For the simple fact that they didn't know why. But since today was supposedly be his and Breana's birthday, _him_ said he would explain why they were wherever they were. The metal door slammed open once again a man with slick black hair wearing a black suit and a sliver and green tie. A man dressed a black trench and long white-blonde hair, walked in and eyed the two children like something that was on the bottom of his shoe.

"These are the other Longbottoms that the Dark Lord spoke about?"

"Yes, Malfoy." raven hair man turned his greyish eyes on the subject at hand. "As I said last week, I'll give you a explanation. Your parents were against the glorious Lord Voldemort. To make sure that there wasn't another generation of trouble."

Danny narrowed his brown eyes. "So you what! You killed our parents!"

 _Him_ who the twins knew as Henry grinned wickedly. "No. But he and the Death Eaters did. Don't worry, Lord Voldemort will handle you after he takes care of that Potter kid."

Breana gasped before turning and buried her head in Danny's old, dirty rag of a shirt. Danny pulled her close and closed his eyes not even bothered that their captures left. Danny had a lot of thoughts going through his head. Voldemort? Who in the bloody hell was Voldemort? And who was the Potter kid that Henry was talking about? Who was that Malfoy guy? And what would this _Lord Voldemort_ do to them? A soft sob caused him to move his teary, red eyes on his still crying sister and best friend. More tears fell when he realized that was it, what could they do? They were orphans. Alone in the world...Danny looked at Breana again and sighed. Maybe not so alone at all. As long as they stick together, they would never be alone but he had to figure out how to get out of this hell they were thrusted into.

 _12 Grimmauld Place_

The sound of banging caused Hera to open blinked her eyes open. She rubbed her eyes with her bare arm before swinging her short legs over the massive bed as her grey and black cat, Baltazhar leapt off from the other side. Hera slowly opened her bedroom door and crept out to lean over the rail. Her green eyes were on her uncle as he spoke to someone on the other side.

"Snape. What do I owe of this visit?"

Her Uncle Gabe was the nicest man that she knew. So it surprised her that he spoke with venom in his daily calm voice.

"Potter. As you know that July is almost here."

Gabe shook his head before groaning. "Severus, April hasn't even came yet. But to get this over with, no. She's not ready and I won't take that chance of You know who getting his grimy hands on my last family member."

Hera was confused. Who was her uncle so afraid of? And what wasn't she ready for. The ten year old was deep in thought that she didn't notice her uncle closing the door or heading towards the stairs she was on until a clearing of a throat caused the young girl to jump.

"Ms. Black, it is rude to ease drop."

Hera smiled before a frown formed. "You haven't heard from Sirius, Uncle Gabe?"

Gabe sighed before pulling the young girl into a hug. "No. But how about we go for a morning flight before we go shopping?"

Hera smiled lightly. She knew that her uncle was keeping something from her but what?


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm glad you liked the chapter. Thanks for the reviews, faves and follows. Here's chapter two.**

A soft clicking sound made Breana opened her pale green eyes. She lifted her head off the battered mattress that she shared with Danny. Her eyes moved towards the metal door to see it slowly open.

"Danny...psst...Danny." Breana tried to whisper as she nudged her brother's side.

The soft snoring that seemed to come from the other side of the mattress stopped before Danny opened his brown eyes. "Huh? What is it?"

Breana wasn't sure if she should continue but a blueish light caught her and Danny's attention. They stood and headed for the door to see a image of a light blue wolf run down the dark halls. Breana and Danny shared a look before holding one another's hand. Danny looked down at their joined hands and had this weird feeling bubbling up. This wasn't the first time since he felt like that. Danny shook his head before he was being pulled by Breana who was going after the wolf. They followed the wolf to towards a opened door that had a bright light coming from it. The two went through the door to be greeted by the extreme bright light that they dreamed of; the sun.

"Where are we?" Danny asked as he and Breana looked around.

A loud chime sound made them look up and see the old clock towers that they once seen from the books their captures gave them. As Henry put it, _'Here's something to keep you occipied while you wait your fate.'_

"We're in London."

Breana glared or attempt to. "No kidding. What gave you that idea?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "No. Henry told us we were in America. How we get here?"

A screech caused Danny and Breana to look up as a tawny and black owl flew over before a envelope fell from the owl's claws. Danny managed to catch it before looking at Breana who raised a eye brow.

"Well, open it."

Danny nodded before opened the envelope to pull out two purple and yellow tickets with Knight Bus written on the top. As soon as Danny looked up a blur of purple turned the corner before stopping in front of them. The blur turned out to be a triple decker bus. A man wearing a dark reddish uniform, red unruly hair that was stuffed under a dark reddish hat.

"All aboard the Knight Bus." the red hair man looked at the two with pale blue eyes. "Hey come on. We don't have all day."

Danny and Breana was hesitate to get on this strange transportation. But as they thought it over they realized that anywhere was better than where they were. They quickly boarded the bus as the man, Stan they got from his gold nameplate, followed them.

"Next stop, the Burrow!"

In a flash the purple bus was out of sight.

 _ **At the Burrow**_

Remus Lupin stood outside the Weasley's home. He awaited his wolf patronus to return. He was waiting on the arrival of his two Godchildren. He couldn't protect them in time, Peter Pettigrew betrayed the Potters and the Longbottoms, both Frank and his brother was tortured or killed by _You Know Who's_ Death Eaters. A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump slightly out of habit.

"Remus, relax."

Remus sighed heavily before turning to face one of his dearest friends that was alive or wasn't locked up. "I can't Arthur. Not until they are safe and sound. I wish I would of found them sooner."

Arthur Weasley nodded before squeezing his friend's shoulder lightly. "No one could of foreseen Henry and Lucius bringing those children here. We all thought that the Death Eaters was hiding them in America."

Remus went to say something when a farmilar horn beeped loudly in the afternoon England country air. A cloud of dust caused Remus and Arthur to cough. When the dust cleared he was able to see two eleven year olds exit the purple Knight Bus. Once the children was safety on the side the bus took off in another purple blur before it seemed to disappear.

Remus cleared his throat. At that Arthur patted Remus' shoulder before heading towards the house to inform his wife and family while the two children looked up with wondering eyes. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions." the twins nodded unsure what to say. "Alright." with a wave of his hand a feast fit for a king was conjured. "Eat. Then I'll answer any questions."

The twin that Remus knew as Daniel shook his head. "We want answers now!"

Remus chuckled before sitting on the grass. The two shared a look before following suit. "Very well. Ask away."

"Who are you?"

Remus turned his green eyes on his Goddaughter. Just as beautiful as her mother, even have those intense pale green eyes. "For starters, I am Remus Lupin. I'm also your Godfather."


	4. Chapter 4

**I appreciate all the reviews, faves and follows. More Hera and Harry Potter will come shortly. Enjoy the chapter.**

Danny stared at Remus with a hard expression. His emotions ran high, changing from sadness to confusion and then finally anger. "Where the bloody hell have you been all these horrible years!"

Remus have expected that reaction and was ready with a answer. "Looking for you." Breana and Danny looked more confused but didn't say anything so he continued. "There's a prophecy in the wizard and witch world th-"

Breana looked up from drinking some pumpkin juice from a glass cup. "Wizard and Witch world? You mean magic, wands and dragons?"

Remus smiled at his Goddaughter. "Magic and all. Now the prophecy says that the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies. There were two babies that were canidates for this prophecy, one of them was your cousin. A few months before you were born your parents took the both of you and ran to America. After the attack on your aunt and uncle, I went for you two. But I was too late..."

Breana had tears falling. She was also overwhelmed with emotions. She forgot about the food and drink and fung herself in her Godfather's arms. "We're just glad you found us now."

Danny felt that odd feeling again as he watched them embrace. The way Breana smiled, the bright light that sprinkled in her eyes. He shook his head before smiling as well, it was a force smile but a smile nonetheless. Remus still haven't told them much. Like who is this Lord Voldemort? Who's the Potter kid that Henry and the Malfoy guy was talking about? A hand on his own shoulder made Danny look up from the bright green grass they were sitting on to the green eyes of Remus.

Remus smiled at the young male Longbottom. "Daniel-"

Danny scoffed. "It's Danny."

Remus sighed deeply before rubbing Breana's back as she had cried herself to sleep. "At least they told you your names."

Danny rolled his eyes just as a heavy set woman with red hair walked over. She had a twelve year old boy with a head of red hair.

"Remus why don't you let these children rest." She then turned her brown eyes to the boy by her side. "Ron, why don't you help Remus settle them in. Why you at it call Ginny down."

Ron nodded before heading towards the very unique house. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Coming uh...?"

"Danny." Danny said before casting a glance towards Breana who was no being carried in a bridal style. When he saw Remus heading to the house as well he nodded to Ron and followed him up the path.

 _ **April 30th, The Burrow**_

Danny and Breana yawned as they walked down the crazy winding stairs of the Weasley's home, their home. It only been a couple of weeks since Remus, their Godfather saved them from their captures. During that time the twins had grew to love and see Molly Weasley as the mother that they always dreamed of. Ronald Weasley was the most favourite of the Longbottoms. Second favourite of the twins was a tie between George and Fred, another set of twins who gave a good laugh. Percy Weasley, was by far the worst in Danny's book. Even though the third oldest Weasley was sixteen he had a uncanny habit of smiling and finding ways to touch Breana. Whenever he saw it, Danny could swear that his blood boiled hotter than the lake of fire. Danny was knocked out of his thoughts when he and Breana got to the bottom level of the house when a loud, cheerful shout caused them to jump.

"Happy Birthday!" the Weasley family minus the two older boys well men, Charlie and Billy along with Remus and his wife that they had the pleasure of meeting, Nymphadora Lupin who prefers to be called Tonks. Which was originally her maiden name.

Breana seemed to brighten when a four level cake floated through the air and landed on the table. Danny smiled and couldn't help the warmth feeling inside the pit of his stomach or help when his heart beat like it'll rip his ribcage.

Remus turned around before turning back and placed a large cage with a black and dark grey owl inside. "Happy Birthday, from your Godparents."

Tonks shook her head before placing an wrapped up broom on the table. "Every witch and wizard needs a broom."

Molly levitated the gifts to the living room before turning to Danny and Breana. "You can explore your gives later. Enjoy your birthday breakfast."

Danny and Breana sat at the table and ate while they laughed and cried from laughing, curiosity of George and Fred. But one thing was for sure, enjoying their birthday is what they did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here we are at the next chapter. More Hera and Harry Potter. Enjoy.**

Hera woke the same why for the past eleven years. With Baltazhar pawing her pretty angle face with a soft purr. But this birthday was different, she didn't wake up to the fury face of her cat but to soft whispers from downstairs. Hera got out of bed dressed in her purple tight tank top and short grey boy shorts. She didn't bother to do her hair since it was probably her uncle talking to his friends that are out of town. At least that's what he told her, do she believe it? Absolutely not. As she headed down the stairs she heard a farmilar voice that she heard from last year.

"You can't keep her in like some criminal, _Potter_."

The voice was cold and hard and strangely she was drawn to it. She went down the last step and hid behind a wall. She peeked over the edge to see her uncle leaning against the kitchen walk way while his hazel eyes was on a tall raven hair man. So far he wore a dark gray long sleeve cotton turtle neck.

"I'm keeping my promise, Snape."

 _Snape? Wasn't that the man that came here last year?_ Hera thought before she listened in on the conversation.

The man, Hera believes his name is Severus, voice seem to get colder. "I have a promise to keep as well. Lilly wanted her daughter to witness the joys of going to Hogwarts."

Gabe groaned before shaking his head. "I'm trying to protect my remaining family."

The man scoffed. "He you need to rethink that. The boy is alive. He had spent his first year at Hogwarts last year."

Gabe crossed his arms. "I'm not taking any chances. I'll send her when I feel it's safe."

Hera took that moment to reveal herself. Finally she will get some answers. "Uncle Gabe?"

Gabe and Severus looked and wasn't surprise to see the subject of their talk. Gabe glared at the visiting man before turning his eyes on his niece. "Hera, go back upstairs."

Hera frowned as she crossed her arms over her chest, which wasn't small either. The action caused her tennis ball size breasts to push up in her tank top. She ignored Severus when he cleared his throat as she focused on her uncle. "No Happy birthday? Pitty."

Hera seen Severus smile as her uncle glared at him. Gabe walked over and tried his best to block Hera's view. "I'll talk to you later."

Hera narrowed her green eyes. "No. I want to know now. Starting with, who is him?"

Severus stood and grinned. "Good luck with this Potter. Don't forget to mention that the girl's cat is dead." with a snap of his fingers he was gone.

Tears fell from Hera's eyes as she moved them to her fuming uncle. "Baltazhar is dead?" before Gabe could answer Hera lashed out. "When were you going to tell me? And what's the meaning of all this serects!"

Gabe sighed heavily. Guess he has somethings to explain. "As you know that I'm a wizard." Hera nodded. "Well, you're a witch Hera. A half blood witch, considering that your grandparents on your mother's side were muggles."

Hera tilted her head before tears fell from her eyes as she glared at her uncle. "Muggles? Like you said I was!"

Gabe tried to walk closer but Hera backed up. "Hera please listen to me. I only wanted to protect you. The man that was here was Professor Several Snape is the potions teacher at Hogwarts the School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. You were supposed to go last year but I felt you were not ready and you're still not ready. I don't care if your brother is alive-"

"My brother?! I have a brother!" tears were falling more rapidly. With a sob she ran off towards the closet under the stairs.

Gabe ran after her only to see his niece fly out of the house on his broom.

 _ **4 Private Drive**_

The infamous Harry Potter slumped down on the garden bench. He didn't feel very special as he sung under his breath. "Happy birthday to me...Happy birthday to me."

No cards, no presents and he has to spend the evening pretending that he doesn't exist. He gazed longingly at the bushes across the street. He never felt so lonely, he terribly missed his best friends Ron and Hermione. Before Hogwarts he was always alone but now he had a taste of friendship he craved it. Ron or Hermione haven't sent him a letter and it made him wonder if it all was a dream. A loud crashing sound made Harry jump up and run out of the garden and look down the road to see a young girl getting out of one of the neighbours' bushes. She had a broom in her hand. A witch, so it wasn't a dream? But who was she? He haven't seen her at Hogwarts.

"Excuse me..."

The soft, sweet voice caused Harry to move his blue eyes up to stare into the most brilliant green eyes. He gulped feeling a bubblely feeling in the pit of his stomach. Harry shook his head before smiling warmly.

"Hi. Are you new? I haven't seen you around before."

The girl, who could be no more than eleven or twelve shook her head. "I'm actually from the other side of the bridge. I am Hera and you are?"

Harry out stretched a hand and Hera shook it. "Nice to meet you Hera. I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Hera smiled lightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry."

Harry looked down and snapped his head back up when he saw Hera's outfit. "You seem like you were in a rush."

Hera sighed deeply, not bothered to fight the tears. "Today is my birthday and not only did I find out that my best friend since I was little has died but my uncle has been keeping serects."

Harry frowned, feeling like he understood where Hera was coming from. Or at least he thought he was. "You know it's funny...today is my birthday too."

Hera smiled and it made Harry want to do whatever in his short limited power to keep it there. "Well it was nice meeting you, Harry Potter."

Harry nodded still the goofy smile on his face. "It was nice meeting you too."

As Hera mounted the broom a breeze blew by tossing Hera's black waves around. Harry caught sight of the lighting scar on her forehead. His throat got dry and his feet seemed to become frozen.

"By the way, Happy birthday!"

All Harry could could do was watched as Hera took off into the sky like a zigzagging manic. Finally he found his voice and his footing. "Happy birthday to you...too."


	6. Chapter 6

**Now we get to the chapter were the Longbottom twins meet Harry Potter. I should have said that this before. That this is a AU, but I'm sure you figured that out already. Enjoy.**

Danny had spent most of his day with Breana. She had said the day before that she wanted to spend the day, just the of them. Something Danny couldn't deny. He loved to be in his sister's presence and with every chance he'll get he won't give up the opportunity to talk about Breana. Which was a lot. Now that Breana was getting ready for school shopping tomorrow with Ginny, Danny took the moment to see what Ron, Fred and George was doing. Because he didn't care about _Percy the Perfect._

Danny walked down the stairs to see Ron on the couch looking miserably out the window that showed nothing but dark skies and dozens of stars. "Ron, are you alright?" Danny asked as he walked over to the Weasley's couch.

"No..."

"...Because he's boyfriend is held up!"

George and Fred, respectively. Danny looked at Ron with a raised brown eye brow. "I didn't know you were gay?"

Ron glared at his older brothers. "Harry is not my boyfriend."

Both the Weasley twins and Danny caught that Ron didn't deny that he was gay. Danny shook his head before repeating his questions and prayed the conversation went somewhere without Fred and George intrupting with jokes and snide comments.

"Ron, what's wrong?"

Ron soften his green eyes before looking at his new friend. "I'm worried about Harry, my best friend from Hogwarts. I know his aunt and uncle isn't treating him right. Hermione knows it too."

Danny sighed as he realized that George and Fred was halfway right. What ever Ron was upset about the chosen one was the case. Just Harry Potter isn't the one that Ron fancies.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. We'll take dad's flying car and head towards Potter's house."

Everyone looked at Fred shocked that he was the one that came up with a reasonable idea. Ron nodded before standing and looking towards Danny.

"You coming?"

Danny thought about turning down the offer but nodded his head anyway before following the three Weasleys towards the blue Ford. Danny had started broom riding under Molly, Arthur and when Remus was there guidance. But the experience he was witnessing was absolutely amazing. Soon the twins pulled the flying car to a two story house, one of the windows were barred. Soon a pair of confused blue eyes stared through the window before the feeling of relief took over. Fred and George turned the car so Ron could hook the chain that was in car. Why did Mr. Weasley have such a thing in his car was beyond him. Danny shook his head before helping Ron with a owl's cage and has to admit the bird was beautiful.

"Get back here, you're ungrateful beast!" snarled a heavy set man with no neck as he flung himself towards the window and latched on the boy's foot.

"Fred drive! Now!" Ron shouted as he and Danny tried to help the dangling boy into the car.

Once Fred turned and drove into the cloudless sky the fat man fell out the window. He shook his head before looking at his friend as he patted who should know as Harry Potter on the shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Harry." Ron then turned his eyes on other boy in the backseat. "Harry, this Danny Longbottom. His twin sister and him are Neville's cousins."

Harry Potter turned and gave a kind smile as he shook the few months older boy's hand. "Please to meet you. I'm-"

"Harry Potter. The boy who lived and vanquished the dark Lord. I know all about you." Harry frowned causing Danny to roll his brown eyes and smile. "I have to say that your scar is wicked."

The boys in the flying car laughed as they headed towards The Burrow.

 _ **Kitchen, The Burrow**_

After coming in they were caught by Molly Weasley. They were let off the hook since they were saving Harry from his disgraceful so called family. While they were at the table eating breakfast, Danny got to know Harry a bit more and found a connection with him like he did with Ron, Fred, George and Ginny. Speaking of Danny's eleven year old red head friend. Ginny walked down the stairs with Breana at her side. When Ginny's brown eyes, like her mother's landed on Harry she seemed to freeze. Before running off like she had seen a ghost.

Harry looked guilty around the table as Breana sat next Danny who was sitting across from Ron and Harry. "Was it something I said?"

Which was just: Hello. But Ron shook his head. "She has been talking about you all summer. It's kinda weird actually."

Molly shared a glance with her husband before moving her brown eyes towards the teenagers at the table. "Would someone check on her?"

Danny wiped his mouth with his napkin before standing. "I'll go." before Molly or Arthur could say anything.

Danny walked out to the back where Ginny was sitting on a makeshift tire swing hanging by a tree. Ginny had a dreamy expression before she realized who was with her.

"I'm glad it was you." Ginny says her eyes had a heated gaze.

Danny raised a eye brow as he sat on a nearby stump. "Why is that?"

Ginny sighed deeply before looking towards her currently only best friend besides Breana. "Besides Ron, you know what I'm going through."

Danny was more confused. "What might that be?"

Ginny played with her hair as she took a deep breath. "Ron...has a crush on someone at Hogwarts. I don't know who and I have a crush on Harry Potter."

Danny frowned. "What does that have to do with me?"

Ginny gave her year older friend a knowing look. "As strange as it may seem but you like Breana."

Danny laughed before standing and thrust his hands in his fitted black jeans. "Of course I like Breana. She's my sister."

Ginny shook her head. "I meant more than just brother and sister. You really like her. Which I understand, she's all you known and she's special to you."

Danny sat back down on the stump as he thought about it. He couldn't live without Breana, there were many times he wanted to beg and do something so Henry and his goons would kill him. But Breana kept him from doing so. His brown eyes widened when he realized that Ginny was right. He did have a crush on Breana. But how do you tell your twin sister that you have a crush on them?


	7. Chapter 7

**Welcome back to the next chapter of Collision. I didn't have enough room in the summary to put any warnings, plus I didn't know exactly what was going to happen. I knew that there was going to be smut/lemon and slash but didn't know what part of the story until now. So** _ **WARNING**_ **: Underage, Incest sex in this chapter. Without further ado enjoy.**

Hera returned home early the next morning. She didn't meant to be out that late but she had gotten a bit lost and she didn't want to come right back to the old musty house her missing Godfather owns. Hera put her uncle's broom back in the closet before tempting to head upstairs. She wasn't prepared to face her uncle's warth or lies he had conjured up. But her attempt to bypass her uncle was fatal since his gruff voice called out to her as she passed the kitchen.

"Hera Jua Black."

The twelve year old groaned before turning to head to the kitchen. She didn't want to face her uncle now but it's better now than later. With a deep breath she walked in the kitchen to see Gabe sitting in one of the old chairs looking at her with a distance look.

"What were you thinking?"

Hera shrugged. She was upset and she needed to get away from the house...from him. Gabe's voice made Hera jump before turning her green eyes on her uncle.

"Regardless of why you need to be punished." Gabe stroked his trimmed black goatee before standing. "And I have the perfect punishment for you. Go to my office and meet wait for me. While you are at it, it would be wise to take these."

Gabe handed Hera two small viles. Hera looked at the viles oddly before heading towards her uncle's office. Hera opened the large door before sitting on the leather couch that was next to the wooden desk. She took out the viles and looked at them again before popping the top and drinking them. She shook her head as she tried to get the unforgettable taste out of her mouth.

"I see you followed my instructions." Hera looked up to see Gabe in the door way with a wooden padle in his hand. "Have you thought on what you done?"

Hera stared confusingly at the padle as she shook her head. Gabe clicked his teeth before shaking his own head.

"Take off your shorts and bend over the desk."

Hera never had a spanking but knew she was about to get one. She figured that it would better for her if she didn't argue or protest. So she slipped down her grey boy shorts feeling flushed and embrassed because she didn't have any knickers underneath. This giving Gabe a clear view of her shaved pussy. Closing her eyes she bend over and waited for her punishment.

 _Smack_

The sound of wood hitting soft flesh resonated throughout the room.

The young witch bending over the large mahogany desk, her shorts around her ankles, didn't utter a sound at the impact of the wooden paddle hitting the plump tissue of her bottom.

 _Smack_

Gabe wasn't surprised at the lack of sound from the young girl. He knew from the time she bend here that she was stubborn when it came to submitting to anyone.

 _Smack_

Hera bit her lip. Her bottom was throbbing. She didn't have to glance over her shoulder to know that it was bright pink from the strikes.

 _Smack_

"Have you realized the error of your way?" Nothing.

 _Smack_

"It's about time I have done something about that feisty attitude and big mouth of yours."

 _Smack_

Hera closed her eyes as she tried to fight off the pain.

 _Smack_

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_ Hera thought as she clenched her green eyes tight.

Hera let out a whimper of pain at Gabe's insistent paddling.

As soon as Gabe heard her cry, he set the wooden paddle down. He gently rubbed Hera's ass cheeks with his creamy hands.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_

But as Hera tried to fight the feelings but couldn't help but moan at the combination of sensations that came from his gentle caresses.

Gabe continued to touch her, outlining her ass cheeks with his fingers, moving it down her ass crack and close to the moist lips of her pussy where her clitoris rested. He stilled his finger there, just barely wiggling it on her clit before moving it away.

He continued to tease her, drawing close to her hard clit before moving his hand away.

He was waiting. And he knew it wouldn't be long before he got what he wanted.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_ Hera once again repeated in her head.

Hera began to shake, her knees bending, her lip bleeding from the pressure of her teeth biting into it.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_

"Please," she whimpered in defeat, thrusting her ass into his hands.

Gabe smirked.

Firmly groping one of her ass cheeks into one of his hands, Gabe spread Ginny's pussy lips wide. He gently pushed his finger into her moist heat.

Adding a second finger and curling them so that they touched her sweet spot, Gabe began to move them vigorously within Hera's body. He continued to squeeze her bright red ass cheek, knowing that it was adding to the intensity of her pleasure.

Hera clutched the desk, unable to keep silent or still. She panted, moving her hips into his hands. The pain and pleasure combined into an intensity that set her nerves into spasming frenzy.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_ Hera tried to remind herself but no use.

"Oh sweet Lord please don't stop," she begged.

Gabe continued to finger her, his own cock responding to the way her pussy hugged his fingers.

He knew when she was close. Her back had arched, squeaks would escape from her beautiful, full lips, and her pussy would begin to flood with her desire.

When this all started to occur, Gabe pulled his fingers away.

Hera let out a frustrated moan.

"You greasy git! Why'd you stop?"

One hard slap on her ass cheeks with the paddle from Gabe quickly quieted her down.

Gabe unbuttoned his slacks, his cock springing free. Moving closer to Hera, he grabbed both of her hips.

He stroked her hips, his hand caressing one spot in particular; a birthmark in the shape of a doe. It was the only thing Lilly gave to her daughter.

Gabe refocused on the situation at hand. He squeezed the base of his cock, rubbing the head against her clit. After hearing her begging for a few long seconds, he took mercy on her and pushed into her body.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_

"Oh … oh gods," Hera couldn't help but moan, clutching the edge of her uncle's desk with her hands.

Gabe wasted no time waiting for Hera to get used to his size. Good thing too that she took those potions or he would have no choice but wait out the pain from breaking her hymen.

He began to roughly thrust into her, gaining great satisfaction from the squeaks that came from her lips.

For Hera, the thrust were both pleasurable and painful.

And with Gabe's clothing rubbing against the abused flesh of her bottom, the knot in her belly began to tighten considerably.

"Say my name," Gabe ordered, his breath coming out in pants.

 _Silence_

Gabe picked up the paddle once again.

 _Smack_

"Uncle," Hera screeched.

 _Smack_

"You know very well that is not my name."

 _Smack_

Hera was so close to reaching her peak; she could almost taste it in her mouth. Her entire body was burning with pain and pleasure, and the hairs on her arms and legs standing up.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_

 _Smack_

"I'm waiting Hera."

She hated the way he made her feel, the way he made her body betray her, the way he conditioned her to enjoy the pain with the pleasure. She hated the way she always gave into him. It was supposed to be wrong but why did it feel so right.

And even more, she hated how much she needed him.

"Gabe!"

Gabe dropped the paddle, ignoring it as it fell to the whisky colour carpet. He sped up his thrust once again. It took less than ten seconds for Hera to arch her back and let out a loud scream.

' _ **I feel nothing.'**_

Hera fell onto the desk limply, letting the sweet tremors carry her into darkness.

 _ **The Burrow**_

"Floo powder?" Harry asked with his head tilted to the side.

Breana and Ginny giggled. Danny shook his head before grabbing some of the green powder and walked over to the fireplace.

"We can go together."

Harry nodded before stepping into the fireplace with his new friend. The past couple of hours has been a blast and he never wanted to leave.

"Diagonally." Harry shouted as Danny dropped the powder.

In a wave of colours and dizziness the the boys eventually found themselves on two feet but not where they were supposed to be. They were in a store that clearly sold unusual and ancient wizarding artefacts.

"We shouldn't be here."

Danny glared at the blue eyes, brown hair boy. "Ya think?"

Harry went to exit the shop with Danny following but Harry stopped when he seen a farmilar pair of grey eyes looking through the window. Harry gasped before grabbing Danny's shirt before pulling him and his self into a nearby sliver cabinet. The boys watched as the door to the stop opened before a guy in long black robes and long light blonde hair that Danny quickly recognised as the Malfoy guy who was with Henry that and Danny watched as the told a twelve year old boy with short, styled light blond hair and pale skin to not touch anything as he was about to open their hiding place. They waited until the two left before they ran out of the cabinet and out of the store. They walked down the alley straying away from the creepy wizards and witches with grabby hands. Soon the two bumped into someone. Danny gulped as his brown eyes stared at the biggest man he ever seen.

"Hagrid!" Danny stared dumbfounded as Harry hugged the huge man or at least tried to.

"And you must be Mr. Daniel Longbottom. Dumbledore is excited to see you and your sister."

Harry laughed lightly at his friend's confused expression. "Hagrid is Hogwarts gameke and gate keeper. He knows a bit about our parents."

Hagrid sighed before clapping the boys on the shoulder. "They were me best friends. We did _everything_ together."

Danny and Harry shared a look as they took in the odd way the half giant said 'everything'. Hagrid cleared his throat as the cloudy look in his dark eyes. He stirred the boys in the opposite direction of where they were headed.

"Now how you two end up down here?"

Danny felt strangely odd to have Hagrid's large hand on his shoulder. Danny shook his head before a twelve year old with wild, curly brown hair ran up to them.

"Harry!"

Hagrid patted the boys' backs before heading towards another directon. Harry smiled into the hug he recived before introducing his friend to Danny and vise versa.

"Hermione, this is Danny Longbottom. Danny, Hermione Granger."

Hermione smiled and pulled Danny into a hug. "It's great to meet you! I met your sister-which reminds me. Everyone is waiting for you two at the book store."

Danny and Harry walked down Diagon Alley with Hermione towards the wizardingly book store, Flourish and Blotts.


	8. Chapter 8

**Appreciate the reviews, faves and follows. Hopefully this chapter will be more enjoyable. I do have to warn that a bit more smut/lemon will accure. But none between Hera and Gabe. Now onto the story.**

On the way to Flourish and Blotts Harry looked at the strangely quiet boy next to him. It confused Harry to no end, yes they did have a weird experience but since the pass eight hours he has known that this quietness wasn't his friend.

"Danny? Are you alright?"

Danny sighed deeply before shaking his head. "I'm not sure." he turned his currently pained brown eyes to the chosen one. "What would you say if I told you I met that guy before?"

Harry looked tooken back before shrugging his shoulders. "Have you though?"

Danny nodded. "Henry and him are Voldemort's most loyal followers."

Harry knew of the twins' past, it was during that time of getting to know one another that the three orphans bonded. But Danny's words wasn't at all surprising. Considering how his son acts it's no wonder if Mr. Malfoy is grooming Draco to be the next Malfoy Death Eater. The boys threw out any terrible, gloomy thoughts as they and Hermione entered the book store where Molly Weasley brought the two boys into tight embraces. After she walked away Harry and Danny found themselves in the arms of Ginny and Breana, respectively.

"I was so worried!" Breana cried into Danny's shoulder before nuzzling her face into his neck.

Danny felt odd, but a good odd to have the source of his crush so close. But he was jerked out of his happy world when a tall blonde pulled Harry close to him before a photographer of the Daily Prophet took multiple pictures of Harry and the man Danny and the others found out as Gilderoy Lockhart. Who announced that he's going to be Hogwarts' new Defence Against TheDark Arts professor. Who they found out through Fred and George that Mrs. Weasley fancies. On the way out of Flourish and Blotts they came across this Malfoy father and son, Lucius and Draco. The way Lucius looked at Danny and Breana didn't sit well the twins or Molly.

"Mister _Malfoy_...," the second head of the Weasley household spat venomously as though she had a bitter taste in her mouth.

Lucius grinned wickedly at the plump, red head. "How's your husband, Molly?"

Molly glared with narrowed brown eyes before ushering the children out of the store. "If you don't mind we have more stuff to get."

Lucius picked up a old book that was in Breana's cauldron and nodded. "Of course. Got to get back to the hand me downs." Lucius placed the book back in the female Longbottom's cauldron before turning to his ever peering son who had his narrowed gaze on on a scrawling Hermione.

After the two Malfoys left Fred and George turned their green eyes on their mother. "Mum, who's that?"

Molly looked at her children and the children that was with her. "Just know that you all should stay far away from him. Understood?"

Danny and Harry shared a look as they thought the same thing, knowing that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater they will make sure to stay out his way.

Later that night at the Burrow everyone was getting ready for bed. Hermione was staying at the Burrow during the rest of the summer and will depart from the Burrow to King Cross Station along with the rest of the Hogwarts' students. In the bedroom that Ginny shared with Hermione, sat said youngest and only girl Weasley with Danny on her bed.

"Did you tell Breana yet?"

Danny quickly found the wooden floor very interesting as he shook his head. "I'm afraid she won't feel the same. After all we're-"

"...Brother and sister. Twins." Ginny finished with a roll of her eyes. "Love is funny, love is strange. People fall in love with the same sex but they fall in love. If you like Breana then her." Ginny placed a hand on her friend's hand. "If you're nervous, kiss her and she'll understand."

Danny thought about it and nodded before giving the eleven year old a hug before standing and headed for the door.

"Hey Longbottom!" Danny looked over his shoulder. "Remember you're going to school now. You and Breana are going to catch a lot of attention. It's best to tell her soon before it's too late. Exspecially if you want a shot with her."

Danny nodded slowly before exiting the room and headed for his room he shared with Breana. Not knowing that said twin was hidden in the shadows and has heard everything.

 _ **9 3/4 Platform, King Cross Station**_

Boarding the Hogwarts' Express was very exciting for Breana and Danny. While following Harry, Ron and Hermione to their section on the train the twins bumped, literally into a tall chubby face brunette boy with brown eyes that Breana and Danny of his own brown eyes.

The boy gulped before slowly extended his hand with a nervous, small smile. "Hi, I haven't seen you two last year. I'm Neville Longbottom."

Something in Danny and Breana's eyes glistened at the name. They remember Remus and now their new friends had informed them of a younger cousin. The Death Eaters had tortured his parents making them go insane, now Frank and Alice Longbottom resides in a mental unit for disturbed witches and wizards.

Breana threw her arms around the few months younger boy and cried into his shoulder. "Cousin!"

Danny ignored the confused look before smiling as Hermione came out and explained what Breana meant by they were cousins. He ignored the smile as the boy realized he wasn't alone with his, their Grandmother. No, Daniel Longbottom was focused on the way his cousin rubbed Breana's lower back. He glared at the hand and wish it would burn. Danny's eyes widen when Neville's hand burst into flames. Danny quickly headed towards the section Hermione came out of as Hermione whispered a spell to kill the fire follow by a healing spell that he knew all too well hanging around Fred and George Weasley.

It was nighttime when the train docked at Hogwarts. On the platform Hagrid stood waiting, waving a dimly lit lantern as he called for first years.

Harry walked up to Danny and Breana with Ron and Hermione on either side. "Even though this would of been your second year, you have to go with Hagrid. We'll meet up in the Great Hall."

Danny and Breana nodded before along with Ginny followed the half giant to the boats that was docked. The river ride to the castle was truly stunning. Danny and Breana was in the front of the line to be sorted. They followed Professor Minerva McGonagall down the Great Hall that led to a old, dirty hat that sat on a four-legged stool singing in a raspy voice. Breana looked around and instinctly made eye contact with man dressed in black with black hair that covered one side of his face.

McGonagall cleared her throat causing Breana to snap her attention to the female professor as she began reading names off the scroll in her hands. "Daniel Longbottom!"

McGonagall picked up the hat and placed it on Danny's head as he sat on the stool. The hat was quiet for a few minutes before shouting loudly,

"Gryffindor!"

Breana watched her brother head to the extremely long table that their friends were sitted. Breana's attention was brought up front as Professor McGonagall called her name. She sat on the stool and mentally wished to be in the same house as everyone else.

 _'You don't desire to be alone. You have all your life and want to be surrounded by love ones. It's understandable...'_

Breana gasped. The voice was inside her head but it was the hat's voice. How did he know how she felt? Before she could think on the matter any further the hat's voice vibrated across the hall.

"Another Gryffindor!"

Breana smiled before sliding off the stool and ran into the waiting arms of her brother. She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her and brought her a bit closer. They pulled away and sat down at the table excited about the upcoming year at this wonderful school. Not knowing what disasters that awaits.


	9. Chapter 9

**I know that the last chapter wasn't much but I'm trying to write in the OCs experience during the Chamber of Secrets. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter.**

Harry Potter tossed and turned for the dozen time that night, and he wasn't counting the other nights since he came back to Hogwarts. Harry sighed and decided to sit up before turning over to reach for his round glasses. After putting them on he leaned back against the endless pillows. After being in a over small bedroom, sleeping on a bed that felt more like sleeping on the floor some would think that he'll be sleeping like a baby. But no. Harry couldn't fall asleep because he couldn't get the girl he met on his birthday out of his head, even if he wasn't asleep. Hera. She was just as beautiful as the goddess she was named after if not more. What really intrigued him was the scar on her forehead, exactly like his.

A bright flash caused Harry to closed his blue eyes before snapping them open when he felt something was on his bed other than him. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging bluish eyes the size of tennis balls.

"Er-hello," said Harry nervously.

"Harry Potter!" the creature said in a high-pitched voice that surprised Harry that Ron was still asleep. "So long Dobby wanted to meet you, sir... Such a honour it is.."

Harry subconsciously edged off the bed to the desk before sinking into his chair, next to Hedwig who was awake and looking at creature oddly in her large cage. He wanted to ask: what are you?, but thought it would sound too rude. So instead he said, "Who are you?"

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby, the house elf."

"Not that I'm not pleased to meet you," Harry said a bit too quickly. "But, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Dobby said earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir...It is difficult, sir...Dobby won-ders where to begin.."

"Sit down," said Harry politely pointed to the bed.

To Harry's horror, the elf burst into tears- very noisy tears but still Ron was still sleep.

"S-sit down!" Dobby wailed. "Never... Never ever..."

Harry thought Ron's snoring faltered. But that was probably his imagination. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"Offend Dobby!" the elf choked. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard-like an equal-"

Harry tried to say "Shh!" and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.

"You can't have met many decent wizards, " said Harry, trying to cheer him up.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Don't-what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed- causing Hedwig to screech before beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.

"Dobby had to punish himself, sir," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir..."

"Your family?"

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir... Dobby is a house-elf-bound to serve one house and one family for ever..."

"Do they know you're here?" asked Harry curiously.

Dobby shuddered. "Oh, no, sir, no... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir-"

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments... "

"But why don't you leave? Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free... Dobby will serve the fam-ily until he dies, sir... "

Harry stared. "And I thought I had it bad staying with my aunt and uncle, " he said. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" Almost at once, Harry wished he hadn't spoken. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude. "Please, " Harry whispered frantically, "please be quiet. If the professors hear anything, if they know you're here... "

"Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby... Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your good-ness, Dobby never knew... "

Harry, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is aload of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hermione, she is the smartest witch of our age."

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb like eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Voldemort?" asked Harry.

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry" said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron... "He stopped and looked over to said friend. When he saw that his friend was still in a deep sleep he turned back to Dobby, who has leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights.

"Dobby heard tell, " he said hoarsely, "that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just months ago...That Harry Potter escaped yet again."

Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. "Ah, sir," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Harry Potter must not be at Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head before looking at the elf closely. "I can't leave. This is where I belong. This is where I belong-at Hogwarts."

"No, no, no, " squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter must go where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter stay at Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" said Harry in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.

"All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on-this hasn't got anything to do with Vol-sorry-with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod, " he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head. "Not-not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir." But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint.

Harry, however, was completely lost. "He hasn't got a brother, has he?" Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever. "Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts,"said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing-you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir" Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper-"there are powers Dumbledore doesn't... Pow-ers no decent wizard..."

And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps. A sudden silence fell in the room. Harry looked over at Ron before the ginger started snoring again. Harry shook his head with a small laugh before turning to Dobby.

"This is why I have to stay. It's the only place I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.

"I expect they've just been-wait a minute," said Harry, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?" Harry didn't mention anything to Ron and Hermione but they were so busy with their new friends that it slipped his mind, temporary.

Dobby shuffled his feet. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best... "

"Have you been stopping my letters?"

"Dobby has them here, sir, " said the elf. Stepping nimbly out of Harry's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing.

Harry could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl, and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts game-keeper, Hagrid.

Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry. "Harry Potter mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped... If Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir... "

Harry wasn't listening. He made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach. "Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will leave Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you will leave, sir!"

"No, " said Harry angrily. "Give me my friends' letters!"

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice, " said the elf sadly. Before Harry could move, Dobby had snapped his fingers and before Harry knew it he was in the dark halls.

Before Harry could head back to the dorms a farmilar cold voice of Professor Snape erupted behind him.

"You're out after hours, Mister Potter. Fifty points and detention."

Harry closed his eyes and cursed silently under his breath before making his way back to the Gryffindor dorms before he gets in any more trouble.

 _ **The Next Morning, Gryffindor Dorms**_

Danny woke with a start. Sweat glistening on his skin as the beady liquid clinged to his unruly brown hair. He had yet another nightmare about Breana kissing some older prone, like Oliver Wood or God forbid, Percy Weasley. But in truth, he wouldn't know if it was really bad dreams or visions of reality. It's been two and half months since he started Hogwarts. Unfortunately he has seen less and less of Breana. Oddly enough she has been spending a lot of time with a group of Slytherin girls. The sudden screech of his and Breana's owl, Merlin made him realize the time.

"Shit. I'm late for class." Danny groaned before jumping out of bed.

Danny quickly got dressed and grabbed his robe. Planning to put them on aa he ran down the stairs. Just as he entered the DATDA class everyone got quiet. The Slytherin half of the class snickered as he made way over to his seat by Neville.

"Mr. Longbottom, tardiness is unacceptable. Detention this afternoon and do be on time." Lockhart announced with that slur in his voice that he normally speak with.

Danny let his head fall on the desk. Could his day get any worse?


	10. Chapter 10

**So I'm not totally farmilar with the books or movies but I'm going to try to fit it in as best as I can. Enjoy.**

Unfortunately, Danny had to spend his detention with Professor Lockhart. To good thing is that he didn't have to sit and help sign the pig of wizard's fan mail alone. For some reason, Harry was a signed detention too. When their time was done both boys hurried out of Lockhart's chambers. On the way to the dorms, they ran into Ron and Hermione. Together they walked the long halls to the Gryffindor tower, but a side trip happened after Harry declared he heard a voice when Danny, Hermione and Ron heard nothing. The three Gryffindors followed Harry until they came across a very disturbing sight.

Hogwarts' caretaker Argus Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, was hung up side down petrified, and a message written in blood;

 _The chambers of serects has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware..._

After a long discussion, it was mauled over that the four came to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The next morning during Transfiguration, the group talked about the events that happened the night before.

"What could the chambers of Secrets be?" Danny shrugged his shoulder at Ron's question.

Hermione turned her hazel eyes from her male friends to Professor McGonagall. "Professor," the wild, curly brunette called as she raised her hand. "Can you tell us about the chambers of Secrets?"

At first Professor McGonagall seemed put back at the knowledge that they know about the chamber but explains anyway, that one of Hogwarts' founders, Salazar Slytherin, supposedly constructed a secret Chamber and placed inside it a monster that only his Heir can control, to purge the school of impure-blooded wizards and witches. Since Mrs. Norris' attack many more attacks occur over the course of the year. Danny, Harry and Ron suspect Malfoy is the Heir, so Hermione suggests they question him while disguised using polyjuice potion. Their makeshift laboratory is in a disused bathroom haunted by a ghost, Moaning Myrtle.

When Harry communicates with a snake, the group realized that was something Salazar Slytherin could do as well. Most of Hogwarts believe Harry is the Heir. At Christmas, Harry and Ron learn that Malfoy is not the Heir, but he mentions that a girl died when the Chamber was last opened fifty years ago. Harry finds an enchanted diary, owned by a former student named Tom Riddle, which shows him a flashback to fifty years before, where Riddle accused Hagrid, then a student, of opening the Chamber. When the diary disappears and Hermione is petrified, Harry, Danny and Ron question Hagrid. Professor Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, and Lucius Malfoy come to take Hagrid to Azkaban, but he discreetly tells the boys to "follow the spiders".

Lucius has Dumbledore suspended. In the Forbidden Forest, Danny, Harry and Ron find Aragog, who reveals Hagrid's innocence and that the dead girl was found in a bathroom. Aragog then sets his colony of Acromantula on the boys, after calling for their brooms and riding off to the castle saves them.

Once back in the castle they three boys find that Hermione has been the recent victim. A book page in Hermione's hand reveals the monster is a basilisk, a giant serpent that instantly kills those who make direct eye contact with it; the petrified victims saw it indirectly.

"That explains alot." Danny mumbled but Harry and Ron heard him. "What are we going to do?"

Ron raised his hands and shook his head. "I am not going anywhere near a killer snake."

Harry and Danny understood before going to investigate and question Myrtle. On the way to Myrtle's bathroom they come across another writing, with the school staff surrounded. The school staff learn that Breana was taken into the Chamber, and convince Lockhart to save her.

"Breana!" Danny cried in despair. Danny had tears as he thought about Breana down in the chamber with a killer snake.

Harry covered his friend's mouth so they wouldn't be discovered, after all it was against the new rules to be out this late. "We'll find her."

After nodding, Harry and Danny find Lockhart, revealed as a fraud, planning to flee; knowing Myrtle was the girl the Basilisk killed, they drag him to her bathroom and find the Chamber's entrance.

Before sliding down the sink after Danny and Lockhart Myrtle called out and said, "If you die, we can share my toilet."

Harry shook his head before jumping down the opening. Once inside, Lockhart uses Danny's wand against them, but it backfires, wiping his memory, and causes a cave-in.

Harry enters the Chamber alone and finds Breana unconscious and dying guarded by Tom Riddle. Harry realises Riddle is the Heir and he used the diary to manipulate Breana and reopen the Chamber. Riddle then reveals his full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, from which he created the anagram for his future new identity, _"I am Lord Voldemort"_.

After Harry expresses support for Dumbledore, Dumbledore's phoenix Fawkes flies in with the Sorting Hat, and Riddle summons the Basilisk. Fawkes blinds the Basilisk, and the Sorting Hat eventually produces a sword with which Harry battles and slays the Basilisk, but he is poisoned by its fangs.

Harry defeats Riddle and revives Breana by stabbing the diary with a basilisk fang. Fawkes' tears heal him, and he returns to Hogwarts with his friends and a baffled professor Lockhart. Dumbledore, reinstated as headmaster, praises them and orders for Hagrid's release. Dumbledore shows Harry that the sword he wielded was Godric Gryffindor's own sword, and says he is different from Voldemort because he chose Gryffindor House instead of Slytherin House. Harry accuses Lucius, who he found out was Dobby's master when the two appeared in Dumbledore's office, of putting the diary in Breana's cauldron and tricks him into freeing Dobby. The Basilisk's victims are healed, Hermione is reunited with Harry and Ron and Hagrid returns to school.

 _ **The Burrow**_

Molly Weasley was overly concerned when she, Arthur and Remus got the news about what happened at Hogwarts. But she was calmed and happy after seeing the group of children she cared for so much returned unscarred, but not all was undamaged. As Tom Riddle didn't do much as of take over Breana's mind, it was something that she would never forget. Even if the whole household pretend that it never happened. Danny on the other hand, tried his hardest to come to terms of what happened. He could of lost his love of his life, and didn't even tell her. But he didn't know how?

While Danny and Breana was getting through their tumours, there was a problem that the adults also known as the Order of the Phoenix had to deal with.

"When did he get out?"

Arthur, who works with the Minstery of Magic was the one to receive such grave news. He rubbed his wife's shoulder as he shook his head. "They don't know."

Molly sobbed which rocked her whole body. "That poor boy. He has so much on his shoulders...now this!" During Molly's outburst she threw a issue of the Daily Prophet across the table.

Tonks shared a look at her grum looking husband before looking at the paper on the kitchen table that showed a bit of movement.

 **Have you seen this Wizard?**

Underneath was a picture of a wizard the Order knew all too well, with a Prisoner of Azkaban sign, after all he was one of them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello everyone, sorry about the rush for last chapter. But it was so I could get into the main story line. And get what you want, which Harry/Hera will be a while. But a brief Sirius/Hera as though it will be short is in works now. Hopefully this chapter don't but you off, enjoy.**

 _Part Two; Third Year_

The first time she noticed Sirius Black was after his triemphet return. Well, the first time she really noticed him. Of course she had seen him before, but she'd never thought of him as more than an Godfather plus she was a baby.

It happened in the small dark kitchen of the old creaky house, the yellow lights flickering over the grimy walls and throwing shadows across dirty chairs. It's been a week since Sirius returned, since then Gabe and Aurora, a member of a serect organisation, Gabe and Sirius won't tell her which. Sirius, Gabe; Hera shuddered at her uncle's name. She never forgave her body for betraying her that day. But as much as she enjoyed the punishment, she knew it was a one time thing. She wasn't attracted to Gabe like that but she was interested in older men. Maybe it's from being cooped in the old house without sunshine on a daily basis.

But her uncle and Aurora had a habit of setting up bets. This day Sirius was betted from Aurora to cook dinner without using magic. It was hilarious. Sirius bent over the pot of pasta, sweat dripping down his forehead and over his slim face. The water was boiling over and the pasta was stuck in one giant clump. He kept summoning various kitchen utensils before realizing that he wasn't allowed to do that, and then promptly putting them back and walking over to grab them without magic. Hera was sitting quietly, attempting to focus on her book without being completely distracted by Sirius' hilarious failures.

It was a comfortable silence, Sirius and Hera had gotten much closer in the last couple of days between the various cleaning and cooking projects that Aurora had put them on. They had gone from being practically strangers to joking around with each other and finding ways to spend extra time together reading or playing games after dinner.

However, having been so focused on cleaning this god forsaken house, she had never realized how good looking he was before now. She glanced up from her homework and rested her gaze on his strong shoulders and back, rippling muscles visible under his thin dark blue t-shirt. His black hair curled around his lean face, dark eyes concentrated on the mess he was making on the stove. Her eyes traveled down to the slight curve of his ass, breath catching in her throat as she stared at the tight black fabric stretched across him.

He spun, catching her staring. She looked away as quickly as she could but she knew she'd been staring at him. They made eye contact, and for a split second, maybe she imagined it, his eyes darkened and his pupils expanded, hunger and lust apparent in his gaze. Half a second later the moment was over, a playful look spreading across his features.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" He questioned, his voice lighthearted and cheerful.

"Very funny. Get back to your dumb cooking or whatever the hell you're doing." Hera replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sirius gave Hera a small smile under his thick black eyelashes, turning back to his messy pasta. If it weren't for the faint blush creeping up his neck and cheeks, it would have seemed like it hadn't happened at all.

"Come help me then, if you think it's so dumb." He smirked at her, winking and turning back to his mess of pasta. She grinned and jumped up, walking over to help him. He threw her the spatula without warning, forcing her to lunge to catch it.

Hera rolled her eyes, shoving him out of the way and beginning to stir the pasta.

"Uh uh, wrong." He said sternly. "Let me show you." He walked up behind her, putting his hand over hers and guiding it in a circular motion. Laughing, she let him guide her. Suddenly, she felt his entire body pressed up against her. His breath hitched and his hand tightened its grip on her arm. She breathed in deeply and tried to remain focused on the stove.

"Much better," he whispered in her ear, sending chills and shivers down her back.

"Ah, like this?" she muttered. Without thinking, she subtly pushed back against him, grinding into him gently, so gently that it could be excused as an accident. He took a sharp intake of breath, pausing a moment before nodding slowly, his long black hair tickling her neck.

"Yeah, sweetheart, like that."

His black hair contrasted beautifully with her own black hair. His breath became faster and heavier as he gently pushed forward, his crotch rubbing along the curve of her ass. She felt his hardness and moaned quietly before she could stop herself. All attempts at pretending to cook were now abandoned as she leaned her head back into his shoulder. He dropped his hand from hers to her hip, moving it up slightly under her shirt onto her pale flat stomach. She rotated her hips, relishing in her power to make him groan and lose his breath. A woman's voice, more specifically Aurora's voice, floated down from the hallway, startling Hera and Sirius back into reality.

"How's dinner going?" Aurora called. Sirius jumped back as she banged open the door.

"Hey guys. Dinner ready?" She asked.

"Ah, um, no. Not quite yet. I was just, uh, teaching Hera here how to stir properly." Sirius managed, his face bright red and his eyes blown out with lust.

Aurora didn't notice apparently as she pulled out a chair and plopped down into it, summoning a fire whisky from the cupboard. Sirius took this opportunity to adjust his pants, his eyes darkening with lust as he looked at Hera.

"You'll never believe the day I had with the Order today," Aurora began. She began talking about the insane missions the order issued to her.

Hera sat quietly next to her, trying to hide her red face and the obvious look of guilt and lust in her eyes. She grabbed her book, jumping up and hastily making up an excuse to leave. She ran out of the kitchen, tripping and stumbling up the stairs.

Hera reached her room, groaning in relief when she entered. She closed the door and fell back onto her bed. What the FUCK had just happened? She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, but was presented of a view of Sirius burned into her eyelids. She yanked her eyes open, realizing it was hopeless to try to forget about him. A feeling of lust burned in her stomach and she realized for the first time the puddle of wetness in her underwear. She angrily ripped off her pants, walking to the closet to find another pair of underpants. She removed her current underwear, her finger brushing her clit accidentally. She gasped, not realizing how sensitive she was after her erotic encounter. Quickly checking the clock by her bedside, she decided she had enough time to relieve herself before dinner.

Laying back on her bed, she removed her shirt and bra. Her hands roamed her body, stroking her flat stomach and inner thighs before settling on her breasts. Now twelve and half her breasts were firm and round, a wish that came true a few days ago. Her nipples hardened under her palms, and she inhaled sharply as she rolled them between her fingers. She sat up, reaching over to her bedside table for the picture of Sirius and Gabe that she kept in her drawer. She folded it over, so only Sirius was left staring out at her. His black hair and deep grey eyes encouraged her to lay back, moving one hand back down to her inner thigh. She stroked up and down, teasing herself until she was rocking her hips against her hand and gasping desperately. She circled her finger around her clit, avoiding her most sensitive area until she was desperate for contact. She moved her middle finger directly over her clit and began stroking the button. Her back arched off the bed as she felt the pleasure radiating up from her abdomen. She gasped and whimpered loudly, completely oblivious to anything other than her pleasure.

"Ahem," rasped Sirius as he stood in her doorway, his cock straining and twitching against his tight black pants. He had never seen a more beautiful or erotic sight than the pale girl laying spread in front of him, her dark hair framing her gasping face, her beautiful mouth open as she raced towards her climax. He had not meant to make the noise, he had wanted to stand there and watch the beautiful girl. But he did, he gasped, and the gorgeous figure in front of him shot up and curled into a ball, desperately grabbing the thin blanket off of the bed to cover herself.

Her face turned bright red and her mouth opened and closed, searching for words but letting out no more than a humiliated squeak.

"Right, uh, Gabe wanted you to come to dinner?" Sirius managed.

"Alright," Hera replied quietly, not breaking eye contact. Suddenly, an idea came over her. When Sirius did not make a move to leave the bedroom, she dropped the green blanket from her breasts, letting it pool around her waist and leaving her top half bare to the older man. Usually shy and timid, she did not know what had come over her, only that she wanted, no, she needed, the man in front of her. Sirius cleared his throat loudly, obviously struggling with his self control.

"Hera, uh, your blanket fell," he said stupidly, a dark red mark creeping up from his neck.

"I know," Hera replied with a smirk. The transformation from the embarrassed girl she had been when he walked in to this sexy vixen of a woman was incredible. "Can you help me pull it back up?" she asked, "my arms are too tired to move."

Sirius gulped, mentally hitting himself for not being the smooth ladies man that he usually was. He never had any problem having his way with beautiful girls, but there was something about Hera that caused him to stop in his tracks and become a nervous blubbering mess. He walked forward slowly, closing and locking the door behind him.

In her mind, Hera was screaming. What if he rejected her? What if he didn't, what if he actually wanted her? Her doubt disappeared as she saw the beautiful man walking towards her, his eyes darkening with every step he took.

"Hera, we can't" Sirius forced out when he was standing over her. She didn't break eye contact as he hesitated, only bit her lip and smirked at him.

Sirius slowly lowered himself to the bed, situating himself so he had pushed her onto her back and he was laying on top of her. His clothed chest pressed against her breasts creating a delightful friction for her hard nipples. She let out a small gasp and Sirius swore the noise almost made him cum in his pants. He put his nose to hers, their heavy breathing mixing as they maintained eye contact. He spread her legs with his, moving himself so his pelvis pressed against hers. The hard bulge in his jeans pressed into her blanket covered body and he felt the heat and wetness even through the two layers separating them. He slowly rocked into her, pushing himself deeply against her and pulling himself up so his bulge rubbed over her clit. He let out a low growl that made a beautiful harmony with Hera's whimper of pleasure. He moved his mouth to her neck, latching onto the delicate skin behind her ear and sucking. Her hips jerked up, desperate for more of the delicious friction.

"Oh my god," whispered Hera as Sirius took up a steady rocking motion, moving his aching cock over her sensitive bud. His right hand moved from its place next to her head to her left breast. He took her nipple between his fingers, rotating it softly and causing Hera to let out a breathy scream of bliss. Replacing his fingers with his mouth, he gently licked her nipple, circling it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth and sucking lightly. She arched her chest into him, holding his head to her and jerking her hips desperately up into him. He covered the valley of her chest with his tongue, licking and kissing across to her other nipple, which he paid the same attention to. She was writhing under him now, letting out those beautiful breathy moans more frequently. Her hips were rotating and her thighs were trembling. Sirius knew she was close, and with a few more thrusts he knew he would cum in his pants like a prepubescent boy. He lifted his hips from Hera's, causing her to cry out desperately in frustration.

"No, please no," Hera gasped out. "I'm so close, please."

He smirked up at her, pushing himself down towards her stomach, throwing the blanket that was covering her off the bed so she was completely naked in front of him. He left a trail of kisses down over her stomach, dipping into her navel before leaving light kisses over her pubic bone. She was completely shaved and Sirius found this to be one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Settling himself between her legs, he spread her infront of him so her delicious scent floated up to him. His mouth found her inner thigh, suckling on the pale skin right next to her most sensitive area.

"Please, Sirius, please," Hera gasped, attempting to shift her hips so his mouth would land where she needed it most. He let out a low chuckle, denying her what she wanted. He spread her lips with his fingers, careful not to touch her entrance or clit. He lightly blew cool air onto her clit, before placing his mouth on her other thigh.

"Sirius please. I need you." Hera whimpered.

"Okay darling, you've been a good girl," Sirius said in a lust filled low and rumbly voice that made Hera's muscles clench in her stomach. He moved his mouth over her center and blew once again. He descended towards her clit, his mouth nearly there. Her hips were in the air, her legs over his shoulders and her hands clenching the bed sheets, ready for the bliss that was about to come.

"Hera!" Came Gabe's voice from the doorway, closely followed by aggressively loud knocking. "Open up! It's time dinner." Sirius jerked away from Hera, jumping off the bed and across the room as Gabe's voice came through the door.

"NO," shouted Hera, frustrated almost to the point of tears. She had never been this turned on in her life not even with the punishment stunt with her uncle. Her usually soft nipples were painfully hard, her clit was pulsing and she was wetter than she'd ever been before.

"What?" came Gabe's voice again through the door. "Hera, open the door."

"Okay okay sorry, I was yelling at myself not you. Give me one second I'm just changing." Said Hera in a defeated voice. She flopped back onto the bed, her eyes closing in frustration. She took a deep breath and raised herself off of the bed. Sirius was already in action, summoning all of their clothes and quickly dressing himself.

"Cough loudly," Sirius hissed at Hera.

"What?" Hera replied.

"Just do it, I need to get out of here." On his command, Hera broke into a loud coughing fit, successfully masking the loud crack of his apparition.

Hera starred at the spot Sirius was standing before a smile formed. She whispered a spell to unlock the door and fell onto the bed in total bliss. She was in love.

 _ **4 Private Drive**_

It was nearly midnight, and Harry was lying on his stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, "Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless discuss."

The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Harry Pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, moved his flashlight closer to the book, and read:

 _~Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than fortyseven times in various disguises.~_

Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his ink bottle and a roll of parchment. Slowly and very carefully he unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped his quill into it, and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen, because if any of the Dursleys heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, he'd probably find himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer.

The Dursley family of number four, Privet Drive, was the reason that Harry never enjoyed his summer holidays. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were Harry's only living relatives. To his knowledge. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic. Harry's dead parents, who were a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Dursleys' roof for years, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hoped that if they kept Harry as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of him. To their fury, they had been unsuccessful. These days they lived in terror of anyone finding out that Harry had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away Harry's spellbooks, wand, cauldron, and broomstick at the start of the summer break, and forbid him to talk to the neighbors.

This separation from his spellbooks had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions, was for Harry's least favorite teacher, Professor Snape, who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry detention for a month. Harry had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays. While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Harry had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs, grabbed some of his books, and hidden them in his bedroom. As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that he was studying magic by night.

Harry was particularly keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with him, all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation.

Daniel Longbottom Lupin-Weasley, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things Harry didn't, but had never used a telephone before. Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.

"Vernon Dursley speaking."

Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Danny's voice answer.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I - WANT - TO - TALK - TO - HARRY - POTTER!"

Danny was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury andalarm.

"WHO IS THIS?" he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"Danny - Longbottom!" Danny bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. "I'M - A - FRIEND - OF - HARRY'S - FROM - SCHOOL -"

Uncle Vernon's small eyes swiveled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot.

"THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOURE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.

The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever.

"HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE - PEOPLE LIKE YOU!" Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with his spit.

Danny obviously realized that he'd gotten Harry into trouble, because he hadn't called again. Harry's other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either. Harry suspected that Danny had warned Hermione and Breana not to call, which was a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch in Harry's year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.

So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one. There was just one very small improvement - after swearing that he wouldn't use her to send letters to any of his friends, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night. Uncle Vernon had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time.

Harry finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Dudley. It must be very late, Harry thought. His eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps he'd finish this essay tomorrow night...

He replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under his bed; put the flashlight, A History of Magic, his essay, quill, and ink inside it; got out of bed; and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under his bed. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was one o'clock in the morning. Harry's stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour.

Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life. The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to suppose they would remember this one.

Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig's large, empty cage, to the open window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harry wasn't worried about her: she'd been gone this long before. But he hoped she'd be back soon - she was the only living creature in this house who didn't flinch at the sight of him.

Harry, though still rather small and skinny for his age, had grown a few inches over the last year. His brown hair, however, was just as it always had been - stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it. The eyes behind his glasses were bright blue, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harry's parents, because Lily and James Potter had not died in a car crash. They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years, Lord Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemort's curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled...

But Harry had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday.

He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realized what he was seeing.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside.

Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once - his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.

Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.

Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out - a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:

 _~MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

 _Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw._

 _A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."_

 _The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which seven, Weasley children currently attend.~_

Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him plus Danny and Breana, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tail, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny. Then Danny and Breana, Danny had a arm around Breana's waist.

Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked up Danny's letter and unfolded it.

 _~Dear Harry,_

 _Happy birthday!_

 _Look, I' really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time. I asked Breana, and she reckons I shouldn't have shouted._

 _It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Molly wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff._

 _I couldn't believe it when Arthur won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy Ron a new wand for next year.~_

Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened during Quidditch practice.

 _~We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?_

 _Don't let the Muggles get you down!_

 _Try and come to London,_

 _Danny & Breana _

_P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week.~_

Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note this time from Ron beneath it.

 _Harry - this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup._

 _Bye -Ron~_

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Danny_ _wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you're all right._

 _I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you - what if they'd opened it at customs? - but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world), Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous - the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating._

 _There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out, I hope it's not too long - it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for._

 _Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!_

 _Love from Hermione_

 _P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased Ron doesn't seem too happy about it~_

Harry laughed as he put Herrmone's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells - but it wasn't. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.

"Wow, Hermione!" Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside.

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tall-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare.

Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world - highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly - as though it had jaws.

Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin.

Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.

And out fell - a book. Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered.

The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.

"Ouch!"

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.

Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _Happy Birthday!_

 _Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you. Hope the Muggles are treating you right._

 _All the best,_

 _Hagrid~_

It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but he put Hagrid's card up next to Danny's, Ron's and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock._

 _Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

 _A list of books for next year is enclosed. Yours sincerely,_

 _Professor M. McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress~_

Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the form?

He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down, eyes open, facing his four birthday cards.

Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else - glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.


	12. Chapter 12

**Here's the second chapter of part two of Collision. Enjoy.**

It's four o'clock in the morning at 12 Grimmauld Place. Hera's officially thirteen years old, even though it has been four hours since twelve and she really dosen't have a clear view on what actual time she was born. But as Hera laid in her bed, her mind was not on the fact that the current day was her birthday. No. Hera couldn't get her Godfather out of her head, she may just be thirteen but she knows deep down that she has fallen for her parents' friend. Gabe and Sirius hasn't told her much about her parents or the brother or even how she's related to Gabe or Sirius. Considering that she has the last name Black. But they did tell her how great of a wizard and witch her parents were and how loved they were.

The sound of knocking caused Hera to jump. She realized that around this time Gabe gets a vist from a Severus Snape. Her uncle would turn the man away on her behalf. Well, not this year. Hera got out of bed and exit her room. She walked downstairs to see Gabe and Severus in another argument. Hera closed her green eyes for a moment before walking down the rest of the stairs.

"Enough." Hera announced her presence.

Gabe jumped as Severus cold dark eyes starred at her. Hera looked away, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Gabe once again stood in his niece's view.

Hera raised a eye brow before shaking her head. "Enough." Hera repeated. "I want to know why he keeps visiting? This is the third year."

Severus shoved Gabe out of his way before walking forward and looked down at the girl with a sneer. "Ms. Black, I'm here on the behalf of your mother and Professor Dumbledore."

Before Hera could ask any questions, Severus took a envelope from inside of his black robe before handing it out. Hera looked at it before taking it and reading it,

 _~HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Ms. Potter-Black, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore~_

Hera re folded the letter before looking up. "Today is July 31st."

Gabe walked up and shook his head. "I forbid it."

Hera glared before looking at Severus. "Can I send my acceptance through you?"

Gabe sighed in defeat before turning and walking away. When he returned he had a large grey majestic bird on his shoulder. Hera's eyes widened in joy and surprise as she ran over to her uncle and the beautiful bird.

"He's beautiful." Hera mummered as she pet the Eagle/falcon.

"Happy birthday, from me and Sirius. I know nothing can replace Baltazhar but you will need a owl if you are going to school."

Hera smiled before hugging her uncle. She quickly wrote her acceptance before giving the letter to her bird, she named Buckingham. After watching Buckingham flew in the night she turned to Severus, but the professor was gone.

Hera turned to Gabe and smiled brightly. "Where's Sirius?"

Gabe chuckled before turning to head towards his office. "Said something about a visit before going on small trip."

"Oh." Hera said, not bothered to hide her disappointment.

Gabe sighed before turning to face Hera once again. "He did say that he'll be at the station when you depart." he squeezed his niece's shoulder with a small smile. "Now, you have school shopping later. I suggest you get your rest."

Hera nodded before heading up the stairs. A lot of thoughts going through her head, one in particular was the most dominant. Who was Sirius going to see?

 _ **Number Four Private Drive**_

Harry went down to breakfast later that morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.

Harry sat down between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of mustache. Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed Harry enter the room, but Harry was far too used to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict:

"... The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

"No need to tell us he's no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"

He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed.

The reporter had reappeared.

"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today -"

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harry knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors.

"When will they learn," said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner beans.

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at hiswatch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."

Harry, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing Kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.

"Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh - she's not coming here, is she?"

Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Harry's, whose mother had been Petunia's sister, he had been forced to call her "Aunt" all his life. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harry's mind.

At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Margo had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. On her last visit, the year before Harry started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.

"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "And while we're on the subject" he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favorite form of entertainment.

"Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."

"All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me."

"Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any - any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"

"I will if she does," said Harry through gritted teeth.

"And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"What?" Harry yelled.

"And you'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.

Harry sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a weeklong visit - it was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.

"Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"

"No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Harry.

"Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blond hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow tie."

Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder. "See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.

Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning his toast, he got quickly to his feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door.

Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat.

"I'm not taking you," he snarled as he turned to see Harry watching him.

"Like I wanted to come," said Harry coldly. "I want to ask you something."

Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously.

"Third years at Hog - at my school are allowed tovisit the village sometimes," said Harry.

"So?" snapped Uncle Vernon, taking his car keys from a hook next to the door.

"I need you to sign the permission form," said Harry in a rush.

"And why should I do that?" sneered Uncle Vernon.

"Well," said Harry, choosing his words carefully, "it'll be hard work, pretending to Aunt Marge I go to that St. Whatsits -"

"St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, and Harry was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Uncle Vernon's voice.

"Exactly," said Harry, looking calmly up into Uncle Vernon's large, purple face. "It's a lot to remember. I'll have to make it sound convincing, won't I? What if I accidentally let something slip?"

"You'll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you?" roared Uncle Vernon, advancing on Harry with his fist raised. But Harry stood his ground.

"Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her," he said grimly.

Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.

"But if you sign my permission form," Harry went on quickly, "I swear I'll remember where I'm supposed to go to school, and I'll act like a Mug - like I'm normal and everything."

Harry could tell that Uncle Vernon was thinking it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in his temple.

"Right," he snapped finally. "I shall monitor your behavior carefully during Marge's visit. If, at the end of it, you've toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy form."

He wheeled around, pulled open the front door, and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out.

Harry didn't return to the kitchen. He went back upstairs to his bedroom. If he was going to act like a real Muggle, he'd better start now. Slowly and sadly he gathered up all his presents and his birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with his homework. Then he went to Hedwig's cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harry sighed, then poked them both awake.

"Hedwig," he said gloomily, "you're going to have to clear off for a week. Go with Errol. Danny and Ron'll look after you. I'll write him a note, explaining. And don't look at me like that" Hedwig's large golden-yellow eyes were reproachful. "it's not my fault. It's the only way I'll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Danny, Breana, Ron and Hermione."

Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig, who had a note to Ron and Danny bound to her leg soared out of the window and out of sight. Harry, now feeling thoroughly miserable, put the empty cage away inside the wardrobe.

But Harry didn't have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Petunia was shrieking up the stairs for Harry to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.

"Do something about your hair!" Aunt Petunia snapped as he reached the hall.

Harry couldn't see the point of trying to make his hair lie flat. Aunt Marge loved criticizing him, so the untidier he looked, the happier she would be.

All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Vernon's car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors and footsteps on the garden path.

"Get the door!" Aunt Petunia hissed at Harry.

A feeling of great gloom in his stomach, Harry pulled the door open.

On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. She was very like Uncle Vernon: large, beefy, and purple- faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his. In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.

"Where's my Dudders?" roared Aunt Marge. "Where's my neffy-poo?"

Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow tie just visible under his many chins. Aunt Marge thrust the suitcase into Harry's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Dudley in a tight one-armed hug, and planted a large kiss on his cheek.

Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley only put up with Aunt Marge's hugs because he was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Dudley had a crisp twenty-pound note clutched in his fat fist.

"Petunia!" shouted Aunt Marge, striding past Harry as though he was a hat stand. Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia kissed, or rather, Aunt Marge bumped her large jaw against Aunt Petunia's bony cheekbone.

Uncle Vernon now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.

"Tea, Marge?" he said. "And what will Ripper take?"

"Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," said Aunt Marge as they all proceeded into the kitchen, leaving Harry alone in the hall with the suitcase. But Harry wasn't complaining; any excuse not to be with Aunt Marge was fine by him, so he began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as he could.

By the time he got back to the kitchen, Aunt Marge had been supplied with tea and fruitcake, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. Harry saw Aunt Petunia wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked her clean floor. Aunt Petunia hated animals.

"Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them," boomed Aunt Marge. "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me."

Ripper began to growl again as Harry sat down. This directed Aunt Marge's attention to Harry for the first time.

"So!" she barked. "Still here, are you?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Don't you say yes' in that ungrateful tone," Aunt Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep."

Harry was bursting to say that he'd rather live in an orphanage than with the Dursleys, but the thought of the Hogsmeade form stopped him. He forced his face into a painful smile.

"Don't you smirk at me!" boomed Aunt Marge. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her mustache, and said, "Where is it that you send him, again, Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's," said Uncle Vernon promptly. "It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases."

"I see," said Aunt Marge. "Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?" she barked across the table.

"Er -"

Uncle Vernon nodded curtly behind Aunt Marge's back.

"Yes," said Harry. Then, feeling he might as well do the thing properly, he added, "all the time."

"Excellent," said Aunt Marge. "I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?"

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, "loads of times."

Aunt Marge narrowed her eyes.

"I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."

Perhaps Uncle Vernon was worried that Harry might forget their bargain; in any case, he changed the subject abruptly.

"Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

As Aunt Marge started to make herself at home, Harry caught himself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia usually encouraged Harry to stay out of their way, which Harry was only too happy to do. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, wanted Harry under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry such an unsatisfactory person.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

Harry tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger. Remember the form, he told himself Think about Hogsmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise

Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup -"

At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.

"Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"

"Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip..."

But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously, so he decided he'd better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as he could.

Outside in the hall, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. He couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake - if he carried on like that, he'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.

Harry was still an underage wizard, and he was forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. His record wasn't exactly clean either. Only last summer he'd gotten an official warning that had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Harry would face expulsion from Hogwarts.

He heard the Dursleys leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.

Harry got through the next three days by forcing himself to think about his Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare whenever Aunt Marge started on him. This worked quite well, though it seemed to give him a glazed look, because Aunt Marge started voicing the opinion that he was mentally subnormal.

At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge's stay arrived. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry's faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them. A with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?"

Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that... and a bit more... that's the ticket."

Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Harry really wanted to disappear into his bedroom, but he met Uncle Vernon's angry little eyes and knew he would have to sit it out.

"Aah," said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after..." She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon..."

"Now, this one here -"

She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. The Handbook, he thought quickly.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was- Weak. Underbred."

Harry was trying to remember page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers. "It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovellike one "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."

Harry was staring at his plate, a funny ringing in his ears. Grasp your broom firmly by the tail, he thought. But he couldn't remember what came next. Aunt Marge's voice seemed to be boring into him like one of Uncle Vernon's drills.

"This Potter," said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

"He - didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who -"

"He was not," said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life.

"MORE BRANDY!" yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Harry. "Go to bed, go on -"

"No, Vernon," hiccuped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash, drunk, I expect"

"They didn't die in a car crash!" said Harry, who found himself on his feet.

"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little -"

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger - but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech - next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls - she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami -

"MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.

"NOOOOOOO!"

Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg.

Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, seized Hedwig's empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.

"COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"

But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.

"She deserved it," Harry said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me."

He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.

"I'm going," Harry said. "I've had enough."

And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage under his arm.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here we are, one chapter closer to the third year at Hogwarts. Enjoy.**

Harry Potter was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.

But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.

Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent.

What, was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world? He thought of Danny, Breana, Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron, Danny, Breana and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them.

He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless...

He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled...his heart was now thumping painfully fast, a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father - what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and... begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunkful of spellbooks and a broomstick.

Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak - but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more.

A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.

He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or - something else.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.

Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter -

There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light -

With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

For a Split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve -"

The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples.

"What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner.

"Fell over," said Harry.

"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.

"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.

"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.

"There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog... but massive..."

He looked a-round at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.

"Woss your name?" Stan persisted.

"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. "So - so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"

"Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. 'Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, ,You did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"

"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for fifteen you get 'or chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.

"You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This ,is Neville Longbottom, Ern. "

Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again and sat down on his bed.

"Take 'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.

There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face with great enjoyment.

"This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"

"Ar," said Ernie.

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.

"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."

"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."

Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet.

Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.

"That man!" Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.

"Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville, where you been?"

He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.

"You oughta read the papers more, Neville."

Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:

 _BLACK STILL AT LARGE_

 _Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

 _"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

 _Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

 _"_ _Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it-who'd believe him if he did?"_

 _While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.~_

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching Harry read.

"He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "with one curse?"

"Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," said Ern darkly.

Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.

"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said.

"What, Voldemort?" said Harry, without thinking.

Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.

"You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?"

"Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I - I forgot -"

"Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast ..."

"So - so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically.

"Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say. Anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo -"

Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again.

"- all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over.

"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.

"What?" said Harry.

"Laughed," said Stan. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, I 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"

"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you ... after what he did..."

"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said ad 'appened, Ern?"

"Gas explosion," grunted Ernie.

"An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"

Ernie suddenly shivered.

"Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.

"'Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' I to run for it..."

He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black. Was inflating Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban? Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, had spent two months there only last year. Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew.

The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.

Finally, Harry was the only passenger left.

"Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands, where abouts in London?"

"Diagon Alley," said Harry.

"Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then."

BANG.

They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off - where, he didn't know.

Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby- looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thanks," Harry said to Ern.

He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.

"Well," said Harry. "'Bye then!"

But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"There you are, Harry," said a voice.

Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere I"

Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach - he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now..."

Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.

"You've got him, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry.

There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.

"And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.

"Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.

"'Bye, Neville!" called Stan.

Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.

"Sit down, Harry," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.

Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."

Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.

Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think... but you're safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then... You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

Harry unstuck his throat.

"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other - er - very deep down."

It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.

"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and-"

"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"

"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"

But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.

"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"

Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Harry... We have to take into account... in the present climate... Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Harry.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."

Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?

Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.

"Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand... I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."

"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no... best we know where you are... I mean..."

Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.

"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know..."

"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked.

Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed... and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."

Fudge shuddered slightly.

"So, I'll say good-bye."

He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.

"Er - Minister? Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly," said Fudge with a smile.

"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could -?"

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

"Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian -"

"But you are the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission

"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly.

"Perhaps You'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't... yes... well, I'll be off Enjoy your stay, Harry."

And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up..."

Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.

Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe -

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.

"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave another bow and left.

Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.

"It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned.

And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.

 _ **The Burrow**_

Danny sighed as he leaned against his pillows. He couldn't believe that Harry blew up his aunt. It's been a week since they been back and Mr. Weasley went back to work. When he returned home, he informed everyone of what happened at Number Four Private Drive. Plus the news on the escape convict from Azkaban.

"It's pretty funny..." Ron said sniggering.

Danny and Breana shared a look before the pale green eye Longbottom looked at the youngest male Weasley.

"You know Ron. You never told us who you fancied."

Ron ignored Breana and focused on the door of the twins' room as his mother entered. "Hey mum."

Molly smiled sweetly. "Harry is at the Leaky Cauldron. Before you three go, Remus would like to speak to you."

After Molly left, Danny and Breana went downstairs where their Godfather was standing. After Remus gave Danny and Breana hugs before stepping back.

"I have some news for the both of you."

Danny crossed his arms. "What? That you're a werewolf?"

Remus nearly choked on the tea he was drinking. "No. I'm going to be the new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts."


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm glad you liked that part. Now, we get to the chapter were Hera meets the gang. Enjoy.**

As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of the Longbottom twins, Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt; he seen in his first visit to the alley to get some more more and get his school supplies. He also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, still a round-faced, very forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his and the twins' very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he'd pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Danny, Breana, Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.

"Harry! HARRY!"

They were there, the four of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione and Breana's hair grew longer and Danny got taller over the summer. All of them were waving frantically at him.

"Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and -"

"I got all my school stuff last week," Harry explained. "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Mr. Weasley," said Breana simply.

Mr. Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Marge.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.

"I didn't mean to," said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. "I just - lost control."

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me." Danny and Breana snickered at the thought. Ron rolled his green eyes before continuing. "Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"Excellent!" said Harry happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books -" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"It was hilarious, Harry!" Danny couldn't pass up the chance of a good laugh.

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry smiled and then asked, while pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I?" said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Hermione. "You're Muggle- born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Breana earnestly causing the other young witch to nod her head.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Danny and Ron sniggered. Hermione and Breana ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book? said Danny innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig, the twins got Merlin and you've got Errol -"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl,"

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Danny, Breana, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.

Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand. He had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er -" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witchs eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these -"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs." Breana giggled while Harry and Danny sniggered.

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much - OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers, shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Danny and Harry followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?" Danny gasped clutching his very beating heart.

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry.

"Where's Hermione and Breana?"

"Probably getting Hermione's owl." Danny said after Ron rejoined them.

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

That was a matter of opinion, thought Danny and Harry. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," said Danny sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

They found Arthur Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily prophet.

"Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Danny, Breana, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley.

Arthur put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Arthur, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

At that moment Molly entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and Ginny.

Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him. She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him.

Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you.

"Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks -"

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy -"

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. "How really corking to see you -"

"I said, that's enough," said Molly, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner..."

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"Fred, George and Ron tried to shut him in a pyramid," Danny told Harry. "But Molly spotted them."

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the eight Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them"

"- for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"As I do I work there, they're doing me a favor -"

Arthur said, his voice was casual, but Harry couldn't help noticing that Mr Weasley's ears had gone red, just like Ron's did when he was under pressure.

"Good thing, too," said Mrs. Weasley briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground... You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ron and Percy were next door to Harry. He had just closed and locked his own trunk when he heard angry voices through the wall, and went to see what was going on.

The door of number twelve was ajar and Percy was shouting.

"It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing!"

"I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back.

"What's up?" said Harry.

"My Head Boy badge is gone," said Percy, rounding on Harry.

"So's Scabbers's rat tonic," said Ron, throwing things out of his trunk to look. "I think I might've left it in the bar -"

"You're not going anywhere till you've found my badge!" yelled Percy.

"I'll get Scabbers's stuff, I'm packed," Harry said to Ron, and he went downstairs.

Harry was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys'. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he'd heard them arguing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlor door.

"-makes no sense not to tell him," Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and -"

"Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing!"

"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what Harry, Danny and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves - they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him."

"But he's not dead, he's fine, so what's the point"

"Molly, they say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible. It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black's after."

"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."

"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry

There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.

"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts... he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You- Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that..."

There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.

"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"

"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."

"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"

"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Nor am I, if it comes to that... but when you're dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."

"If they save Harry then I will never say another word against them," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we'd better go up..."

Harry heard chairs move. As quietly as he could, he hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight. The parlor door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were climbing the stairs.

The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harry waited until he heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.

Fred and George were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Percy dismantling his and Ron's room in search of his badge.

"We've got it," Fred whispered to Harry. "We've been improving it."

The badge now read Bighead Boy.

Harry forced a laugh, went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.

So Sirius Black was after him. This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive. He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could look after Harry until he was on the train.

Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn't feel more scared. Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs, Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Harry happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn't people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Black, as Voldemort's right-hand man, would be just as frightened of him?

And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Black's chances of getting inside seemed very remote.

No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact that his chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero. Nobody would want Harry to leave the safety of the castle until Black was caught; in fact, Harry suspected his every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed.

He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped Lord Voldemort three times; he wasn't completely useless...

Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed his mind. What to do when you know the worst is coming...

"I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud.

 _ **Platform 9 3/4, King Cross Station**_

Hera stood behind her trolley looking at the wizards and witches saying goodbye to their children. She gave a heavy sigh, Gabe told her that Sirius would be here. After hearing the train's whistle, she headed on board. But not before stopping at a wall and at the wanted poster, a wanted poster for her beloved Sirius Black.

Another whistle knocked Hera out of her thoughts. Pushing the trolley towards the train, she got on while one of the conductors packed her trunk away. Most of the areas on the train was taken, so her request for a seat brought her to the back of the train. She reached a compartment that had six students already in there.

"Go away, Ginny." said a boy with red hair and green eyes.

"Oh, that's nice," a girl with long red hair and a bit of freckles said huffily, and she stalked off.

Hera noticed a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. The now five students checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" the red head boy hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," whispered Breana at once.

"How d'you know that?"

"He's our Godfather. Plus it's on his case," Danny replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like a, good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." He turned to Harry. "What were you going to tell us?"

Harry went to explain but Breana cut him off. "Who's that?"

Harry squinted before his blue eyes landed on a farmilar angle face.

"Hera?"

Hera entered and smiled lightly when she reckonized Harry.

Hermione looked between the two and raised a eye brow. "Harry, who's that?"

Harry smiled at the girl sitting next to him before turning to his friends. "This is Hera. I met her last year."

After all the introductions, Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he'd finished, Ronand Danny looked thunderstruck, and Breana and Hermione had their hands over their mouths.

Hermione finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry... you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry -"

"Sirius wouldn't come after you. All this is worrying is for nothing." Hera told Harry honestly.

Danny narrowed his brown eyes. "How do you know that?"

Hera rolled her eyes. "Black's my Godfather."

Breana looked at Hera strangely with a raised eye brow. "How can we trust you? Are a mast murderer's goddaughter."

Harry glared at his pale green eye friend. "Breana!" then he smiled like a love struck puppy at Hera, who blushed at the twinkle in the chosen one's brilliant blue eyes. "I trust her."

Danny, even though didn't feel right with Hera's presence sniggered along with Ron.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which graduily darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the and roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great, Ron you jinks the train." said Danny, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?" Breana asked looking up from her book.

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"'What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Breana.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Danny, that was my foot!"

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

"D'you think we've broken down?" Hera asked looking at the window.

"Dunno..."

There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.

"Sorry - d'you know what's going on? - Ouch - sorry,"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea - sit down -"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron -"

"Come in and sit down -"

"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner.

None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder. .

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't... a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him -

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W - what?"

Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking - the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them he could see Hera and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.

Ron and Danny heaved him back onto his seat.

"Are you okay?" Hera asked nervously.

"Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that - that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.

Hera blinked before looking at Harry. "You heard it too?"

Danny looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming -"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him and Hera a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Lupin.

"A dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.

"I don't get it... What happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well - that thing - the dementor - stood there and looked around...I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face - and you and- you..?

"I thought you two were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching."

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away... "

"It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did YOU feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"It felt weird," said Danny, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"But didn't any of you - fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No, not besides Hera there." said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though..."

Harry didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?

Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."

Harry and Hera took a bite and to their great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of their fingers and toes.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry and Hera?"

Harry didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew his name.

"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed. While Hera just nodded feeling like Harry, she wasn't up to ask the professor how he knew her.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Hera, Harry, Danny, Breana, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All right, you five?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform.

"I guess, I go with..?" Hera started.

"Hagrid." Harry finished with a smile. "After your sorting we'll meet up."

Hera nodded before heading after the half giant while Danny, Breana, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars,

Harry saw two more towering, hooded dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Danny, Breana, Hermione and Ron got out.

As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.

"You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottorn telling the truth? You actualy fainted?"

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously. "Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the delapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no - er - Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.

Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a sternlooking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong.

"There's no need to look so worried - I just want a word in my office," she told them. "Move along there, Weasley and Longbottoms."

Ron, Danny and Breana stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Hermione and Harry was surprised to see Hera sitting in the office. Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter and Black."

Before Harry or Hera could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.

Harry felt himself going red in the face. It was bad enough that he'd passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

"I'm fine," he said, "I don't need anything."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate"

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry and Hera crossly.

"Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse.

"What does they need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"I'm fine!" said Harry and Hera, jumping up. The thought of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture.

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now looking over Hera.

"We've already had some," said Harry. "Professor Lupin gave us some. He gave it to all of us."

"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

"Are you sure you feel all right, Potter and Miss Black?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"Yes, "said Harry and Hera.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."

Harry and Hera went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. They had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying the sorting hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"

New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin.

"Hera, what house do you want to be sorted in?" Professor McGonagall asked the newest student.

Gryffindor was Sirius' house. With a smile she looked at the professor. "Gryffindor."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very, well. Follow Harry and Hermione."

Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Hera, Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of his collapsing in front of the dementor traveled that fast?

He and Hera sat next to one another as Hermione sat down next to Breana.

"What was all that about?" he muttered to Harry. "And what's she doing here?"

Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.

Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why Harry respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as Harry watched him beaming around at the students, he felt really calm for the first time since the dementor had entered the train compartment.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the dementors guarding the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron and Dannny glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year."

"First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry and Hera, Breana and Danny among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape, wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry.


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the next chapter, enjoy.**

It's been a few weeks since Hera became a Hogwarts student. She has been studying hard, as she not only have the classes issued to third year students, but also half of the classes of both first and second years. Hera haven't seen much Harry but all of the classes she has since she wasn't here for the first year, she has seen the Longbottom twins, Danny and Breana. On this particular day, she had her first Care of Magical Creatures class. On the way down the long stairs she saw Harry walked beside his friends in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

It was only when she spotted three only-too- familiar backs ahead of them that she realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. Hera was quite sure she knew what they were talking about.

It was no secret that Draco still mocks Harry for the Dementor scare. She had a none pleasant encounter with the young Malfoy. The git had the nerve to hit on her. She remembers it well because she also remembers Harry's face.

It was after her third day, it was during dinner when the light blonde hair boy walked passed the Gryffindor table before backing up. His eyes were glistening as though he seen his self. But his grey eyes was trained on her.

"Well, the first beautiful Gryffindor I ever seen." Draco purred. "How about we get to know one another better?"

A clanging sound caused Hera to turn to the other side of the Gryffindor table. Harry had dropped his cup and his expression was as though someone stole his puppy or something special to him.

Hera shook her head before focusing on the now. She looked ahead and saw Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

Hera squeezed through the students until she was by Harry's side. "Hi, Harry!"

Harry jumped before he smiled brightly at her as his blue eyes shined. "Hey, Hera. I haven't seen you around lately."

Hera laughed lightly. "Been busy with all the classes. But who's the cute dog?"

Harry smiled and Hera couldn't help but smile back. Of course she has feelings for Sirius and is attracted to older men but something about Harry makes him older than thirteen years.

"That's Fang. Given his size, he's a bit of a wuss."

Hera giggled and to Harry, it was most beautiful sound he heard.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" Hagrid called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

For one nasty moment, Hera thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid called. "That's it make sure yeh can see now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

"How?" said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harry and Hera, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

He took Hera's copy and ripped off the belt that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy sneered. "We should have stroked them! why didn't we guess!"

"I - I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hera, who smiled at the half giant.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Malfoy. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so - so yeh've got yer books an' - an' - - now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on... "

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Malfoy loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you." smirked Malfoy.

Hera turned her head to Draco with narrowed green eyes. "Shut it Malfoy! I heard you almost pissed your self on the train that night!"

Harry's group and the Gryffindors burst into tears of laughter. Harry smiled at her and it was not a mistake that there was love pouring from his eyes.

"Oooooooh!" Breana squealed, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry and Hera had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Hera nodded agreeing with Hagrid as Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was, half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, snowy white, glowing buckskin, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer -"

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Hera, Breana, Danny, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Harry had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right - who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, Danny, Hermione and Breana had misgivings. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a pleading look.

"I'll do it," said Harry.

"So, will I." said Hera walking up as well.

There was an intake of breath from behind him, and both Hera and Harry ignored them. They climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good Hera and Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak Snowflake."

He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray and white hippogriffs away from its fellows, and slipped off their leather collars. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.

"Easy now, you two," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Hera and Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut thern. Buckbeak and Snowflake had turned their great, sharp heads and was staring at Harry and Hera with one fierce orange eye. "Tha's it," said Hagrid. "Tha's it,... now, bow."

Hera and Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of their neck to Buckbeak and Snowflake, but he did as he was told. They gave a short bow and then looked up.

The hippogriffs was still staring haughtily at them. It didn't move.

"Ah," said Hagrid, sounding worried. "Right - back away, now, you two, easy does it."

But then, to Hera and Harry's enormous surprise, the hippogriffs suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry and Hera!" said Hagrid, ecstatic. "Right - yeh can touch them! Pat his beak, go on!"

Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the hippogriff and reached out toward it. Hera was beyond words, she happily patted Snowflake's black beak. Harry patted the beak several times and the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.

The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.

"Righ' then, Harry and Hera," said Hagrid. "I reckon they might' let yeh ride 'em!"

This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was used to a broomstick; but he wasn't sure a hippogriff would be quite the same. Hera rode a broom, barely but was excited to try something new.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, they won' like that..."

Hera and Harry put their foot on the top of Buckbeak and Snowflakes wings and hoisted them self onto its back. Buckbeak and Snowflake stood up. Hera and Harry wasn't sure where to hold on; everything in front of them was covered with feathers.

"Go on, then'" roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry and Hera, they just had time to seize the hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred; the hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.

Hera on the other hand, had leaned forward and had her arms wrapped around Snowflakes neck.

The hippogriffs flew them once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harry had been dreading; he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again. Hera held on to Snowflake before sitting back with a wide smile stretched across her lips.

"Good work, Harry and Hera!" roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, Breana and Danny practiced on the black, while Harry and Hera watched.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to, hear him. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here!"

Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should fire him straight away!" said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Danny. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly but Danny glared at them.

They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; Harry, Ron, and Hermione proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"You think he'll be all right?" said Hermione nervously, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

Danny raised a eye brow. "Why do you care? He's a huge arse hole. Hugger than a queer who takes a lot of shagging."

Ron coughed, choked. But it seem that his friends didn't notice his reaction.

Hermione rolled her hazel eyes at Danny her blush still there. "He's still was hurt. It's not a crime to wonder."

"Course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second," said Harry trying to pry the conversation away from the awkwardness. He also had far worse injuries mended magically by the nurse.

"That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?" said Breana, looking worried. "Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him..."

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.

"They wouldn't fire him, would they?" said Ron anxiously.

Harry ignored the funny looks Hera and the others were giving Ron. "I doubt it. Come on let's head to dinner."

After settling down Hera couldn't find it in her to eat. "Do you really think Dumbledore slacked him?"

"He'd better not," said Ron, who wasn't eating either.

Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured.

After dinner they went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but all six of them kept breaking off and glancing Out of the tower window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch. "If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and Harry saw her glance at him.

Ron saw the look Hermione gave Harry. "I'll go."

Before anyone could protest Ron put his things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on his way to the front doors. Even though he wasn't supposed to be out after dark.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When Ron reached Hagrid's hut, he knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told Ron that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.

"'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognized them. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"You haven't been fired, Hagrid!" gasped Ron.

"Not yet," said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But's only a matter o' time, i' n't it, after Malfoy...he's sayin' it's still agony... covered in bandages... moanin'.."

"He's faking it, " Ron said bluntly.

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," said Hagrid miseribly. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later... done flobberworms or summat... Jus' thought itd make a good firs' lessons all my fault..."

"It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" said Ron earnestly. "I...I meant the gang aand I are witnesses. You said hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. I'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed Ron and pulled him into a bone-breaking hug.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," said Ron firmly.

"At, maybe you're right," said Hagrid, letting go of Ron, who staggered away, rubbing his ribs. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and walked unsteadily outside. Ron jumped when he heard a loud splash.

Before Ron could ask Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"That's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching Ron. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really -

Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Ron as though he'd only just realized he was there.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" he roared, so suddenly that Ron jumped a foot in the air. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, RON!"

Hagrid strode over to Ron, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door.

"Come on!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"


	16. Chapter 16

**On to the next chapter. Enjoy.**

Hera have heard Harry and his friends complain how unfair Professor Snape was. She didn't understand it, since the times she met him though he seem cold he seemed as though that was a facade. It was a Thursday morning when Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. Draco swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Danny, Ron and Harry's opinion, as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry and Danny saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.

Hera saw Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said "settle down" if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was head of Slytherin House, and generality favored his own students above all others. At least that's what Harry and his friends thought.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm -"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up.

Ron went brick red. So did Danny.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Danny hissed at Draco.

Draco smirked across the table.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.

"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, see."

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."

"But, sir!"

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.

"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice.

Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table a, Malfoy, then took up the knife again.

"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," said Snape, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.

Harry took Malfoy's shrivelfig as Ron began trying to repair the damage to the roots he now had to use. Harry skinned the shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked them quietly.

"None of your business," said Ron jerkily, without looking up.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Malfoy in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury -"

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury," snarled Danny.

"- he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this" - he gave a huge, fake sigh. "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harry, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try to get Hagrid fired."

"Well," said Malfoy, lowering his voice to a whisper, "partly, Potter. But there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

A few cauldrons away, Neville was in trouble. Neville regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, and his great fear of Professor Snape made things ten times worse. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned -

"Orange, Longbottom," said Snape, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one -tat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Breana, "please, I could help Neville put it right -"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Longbottom-Weasley," said Snape coldly, and Breana went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Breana.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning - they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Where?" said Harry and Hera quickly. On the other side of the table, Malfoy looked up, listening closely.

"Not too far from here," said Seamus, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here... " Ron repeated, looking significantly at Harry. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely. "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He leaned across the table. Malfoys thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" said Ron roughly.

"Don't you know, Potter?" breathed Malfoy, his grey eyes narrowed.

"Know what?" asked Danny.

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry angrily, but at that moment Snape called,

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's... "

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Hera, Harry, Danny and Ron packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to Ron and Danny as he stuck his hands under the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth "Why would I want revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me - yet.

"He's making it up," said Hera savagely. "He's trying to make you do something stupid..." she took a deep breath. "Besides, Sirius wouldn't hurt you. He dosen't even know you."

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Longbottom-Weasley. Class dismissed."

Hera, Harry, Ron, Danny, Breana and Hermione climbed the steps to the entrance hall. Harry was still thinking about what Malfoy had said, while Ron was seething about Snape.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Breana? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

Breana didn't answer. Ron looked around.

"Where is she?"

Harry turned too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

"She was right behind us," said Danny, frowning.

Malfoy passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked at Harry and disappeared.

"There she is," said Harry.

Breana was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched her bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Danny, concern filling his brown eyes.

"What?" said Breana, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Breana looked slightly confused. "Oh - I had to go back for something. Oh no -"

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Harry wasn't surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects she's taking," said Danny with a roll of his eyes, earning a glare from his sister.

"Couldn't hold these for me, could you?" Breana asked while shoving the books in Ron's hands.

"But -" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You havent got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," said Breana vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Breana's not telling us something?" Ron asked while looking at Danny.

Danny whistled before walking on. "Who knows. After all Hermione has the same classes."

Hera had already left for the Great Hall with Hermione. So Harry had Ron shared a look before following Danny.

 _ **Defence Against The Dark Arts Class**_

Professor Lupin wasn't there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies -to class and set them loose.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin -"

Breana and Danny giggled at the song. After all, their Godfather could be pretty loony at times.

But as rude and unmanageable as Peeves almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," Remus told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely."

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi! "and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool!" said Ron in amazement.

"Thank you, Ron," said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger or Miss Longbottom-Weasley are hissing instructions in his ear."

Neville went scarlet. Harry glared at Snape; it was bad enough that he bullied Neville in his own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville's face went, if possible, even redder. Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Danny eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Lupin. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

Hermione and Breana put their hands up. Remus smiled before pointing at his Goddaughter.

"It's a shape-shifter," Breana said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Lupin with proudness in his green eyes. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means," said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville's sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Trying to answer a question with Hermione next to him, bobbing up and down on the balls of her feet with her hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harry had a go.

"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please ... Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" said the class together.

"Good," said Professor Lupin. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville's lips moved, but no noise came out.

"didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," said Professor Lupin cheerfully.

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone laughed. Harry and Hera had small smiles while Danny, Breana and Ron joined the laughter. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

"Professor Snape... hmmm... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er - yes," said Neville nervously. "But - I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Lupin, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Neville looked startled, but said, "Well... always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress... green, normally... and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" prompted Professor Lupin.

"A big red one," said Neville.

"Right then," said Professor Lupin. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Neville uncertainty, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees You, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," said Lupin. "And You will raise your wand - thus - and cry 'Riddikulus' - and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

The room went quiet. Harry thought... 'What scared him most in the world?

His first thought was Lord Voldemort - a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before he had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of his mind...

A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak ... a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth... then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning...

Harry shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ron was muttering to himself, "Take its legs off " Harry was sure he knew what that was about. Ron's greatest fear was spiders. But he didn't know what scared, Hera, Danny, Breana and Hermione the most.

"Everyone ready?" said Professor Lupin.

Harry felt a lurch of fear. He wasn't ready. How could you make a dementor less frightening? But he didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward... Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot -"

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One two - three - now!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin's wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville.

Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes.

"R - r - riddikulus! "squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag.

There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Breana! Forward!"

Breana walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Breana and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising -

"Riddikulus!" cried Breana.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!"

Ron leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Ron had frozen. Then -

"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ron, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; a girl from Slytherin squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. He raised his wand, ready, but -

"Here!" shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack!

The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.

Crack!

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" said Lupin as the boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

"Riddikulus!" he shouted, and they had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent Neville. Well done, everyone... Let me See... five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice... and five each to Hermione, Breana and Harry."

"But we didn't do anything," said Harry.

"You, Breana and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Lupin said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me... to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. Harry, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. Professor Lupin had deliberately stopped him from tackling the boggart. Why? Was it because he'd seen Harry collapse on the train, and thought he wasn't up to much? Had he thought Harry would pass out again?

But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

"Did you see Snape in that hat!"

Came the whispers of the exiting students.

"And my mummy!" Breana said cheerfully.

"I wonder why Professor Lupin's frightened of crystal balls?" said a boy from Gryffindor thoughtfully.

Danny and Breana shared a concerned look, after all they knew what Remus was really scared of.

"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart -"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

The group laughed at that as they headed for their next class of the day.


End file.
